


Drinking Buddies

by MrBenzedrine89



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Drinking, F/M, Lemon, Oral Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Smut, Sub Hermione Granger, Top Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 68,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7974481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrBenzedrine89/pseuds/MrBenzedrine89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione's relationship with Ron is falling apart -and, by chance, she takes up drinking with Draco Malfoy. Lemons and plot to follow. Rated M for smutty lemons and mature themes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Drinking Buddy

**Cross my heart and hope to die**   
**Burn my lungs and curse my eyes**   
**I've lost control, and I don't want it back**   
**I'm going numb, I've been hijacked**   
**It's a fucking drag**

**I taste you on my lips, and I can't get rid of you**

**So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do**   
**You're worse than nicotine**   
**You're worse than nicotine**   
**"Nicotine" by Panic! At The Disco**

* * *

It wasn't as if Hermione had made plans with Ronald that evening. Not really, she told herself as she entered the tavern, warm air blowing up her face to counter the crisp cold from outside. So why had it hurt so bad when he had asked to play wizard's chess with Harry instead of coming over to see her? Maybe, she told herself, it was because things had been so rocky with Ron lately. Her job at the Ministry was demanding, and she knew she had thrown herself into her work recently… perhaps, that's why Ron had chosen a night of drinking and board games with his best friend instead of a quiet evening watching Hermione sift through case numbers and sign off legalities. Ironic, she thought, considering that him turning away a night in had given her the need to go out.

The bar was packed for a Thursday night, and finding a place at a table was nearly impossible. Hermione settled on a stool at the bar top, bundling tighter in her winter jacket as she squeezed between two larger men to take her seat. There, she ordered two shots of fire whiskey and a butterbeer. The bartender, a pretty woman with short hair, gave her a quick smile and poured her the first shot, ignoring beckoning calls from some of the obnoxious, drunken bastards at the end. "First one's on me, pretty lady," The bartender winked, sliding the shot in front of Hermione.

"Oh." Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, realizing. "Oh! Oh, thank you." Truly, this hadn't been her first time to be hit on by someone of the same gender, but the light never quite went off quick enough for Hermione to realize it was flirting until it was over. Not that she swung that way. But it was a flattering thing to know she was attractive enough to pull both genders.

Slowly, she brought the drink up to her lips and inhaled, taking in the cinnamon before she downed it whole. The burn wasn't something she was used to, only drinking on occasion out with Ginny or at home with Ron and Harry to laugh at her drunken nonsense, but she welcomed it, because somehow she knew it her heart: her relationship was on its last leg.

She felt the man next to her shift in his seat, his meaty body brushing up against her side as he turned around and looked outwards towards the tables. "Well I'll be damned. Malfoy! Good to see you, you rotten git!"

Hermione's back tensed as she watched the bartender pour her a second shot, and she could feel her eyebrows furrow in frustration. Of all the nights, of all the taverns, in all of Hogsmeade, of course Draco Malfoy would show up at this one. It wasn't enough that somehow he had passed enough of his OWLS to be accepted into a position at the Ministry, but that he would be interning in her department… She could barely stand to work with him the little she did at the office. Of course, he had to ruin her nights out as well.

Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't notice her here. She secretly crossed her fingers and cradled her shot between her fingers.

"Crabbe?" She heard his voice, strong, sure, a little worn out, "What the Bloody Hell are you doing in Hogsmeade? Last I heard, Pansy was in labor."

"Still is." Crabbe shifted in his seat, bumping up against Hermione again. She wanted to say something, but to say something would give herself away. And she didn't feel like putting up with Malfoy this evening. Not after all the whining he did on Tuesday about having to make copies. She had come so close to hexing him for complaining to the point of giving her a headache. No, she thought. Tonight was about getting drunk and convincing herself that she wouldn't call Harry just to confirm Ron was over at his apartment, where he should be.

"Well, what are you doing here, then?" Malfoy's voice was closer, so close she knew that if she leaned her head in any way but forward, he would surely notice her.

"Just had to get a shot of liquid courage before making my way home. She insisted on having a natural birth in our bathtub. Can you believe it? I'll never be able to look at my bathroom the same way again."

"Shall I buy you a round?"

"Nah, I'm off. Don't want to be too tossed that I can't ride my broom." Crabbe shifted one last time, standing and leaving Hermione very vulnerable. She heard the two exchange farewells before her worst fears were confirmed as Malfoy slipped into Crabbe's vacant swivel stool and ordered a glass of Dragon Barrel Brandy. Hermione was just about to reach for her wallet to pay and leave before any notice of her would prevail, but she made the mistake of lifting her head to ask for the check.

"Well, well. Do my eyes deceive me," Malfoy leaned a pale cheek on his hand as he stared her down, "Or do I see _the_ Hermione Granger drinking something other than a butterbeer?"

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, cursing under her breath, then opened them, threw back the second shot, and slammed the shot glass forcefully onto the table. She tilted her head to the left and met Malfoy's sly grin. "When the occasion calls for it, I find that alcohol is a… well-deserved escape from the reality." She raised an eyebrow cautiously. "Malfoy, to what do I have the honor of your presence?" Her question was anything but sincere.

"Watch that quip, Granger, or you'll cut my head clean off with just the tone." A large glass slid its way across the table to him, filled to the brim with brown liquor. "I'm just enjoying a night to myself. You?"

Hermione didn't like this banter, the drabble of meaningless conversation, so she said, "We don't have to do this. I know we work together, and that's less than tolerable, but if we're out in public, we don't have to pretend that we're chums, or that we're even coworkers who can stand each other. So, I'll just stick to my silent drinking, and you can stick to yours. Deal?"

Malfoy's cool eyes studied hers for a moment before he shrugged, took his head off of his hand, and knocked back a healthy swig of his brandy. Hermione watched in silence as the liquid spilled down the back of his throat, causing the muscles to contract and extending his long, attractive neck. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, settled his glass down on the bar top, and glanced over at her. "It's hard to pretend you don't exist when you're staring at me."

Hermione blinked. Had she been staring? She turned her eyes forward and muttered, "Sorry."

"No need to be." He smirked. "But now you truly have me curious –what is a goody two shoes like you doing in a bar? Never pegged you for the slumming sort."

"I'm not slumming," Hermione snapped, taking in a deep breath, "I'm just having some difficulties at home and I… why am I telling you this?" She shot him a look of contempt. "You don't care about my life. You're just asking to see if you can blackmail me with something."

"Ooh, that hurt," he jeered, mocking as he put his long fingers to his chin. "See? I think your words left a bruise."

"Bugger off…" She heard the words, but couldn't believe she said them. It was such a Ronald thing to say. Ronald… She was relieved when the bartender brought her the butterbeer. After a refreshing sip of the brew, she sighed. "Sorry. That was uncalled for."

Malfoy merely smirked again, perching his back against the counter to better look at her. "What's got your knickers in a twist? Can't say I'm used to you apologizing, let alone two in one night."

"You don't want to know."

"You're right." He rolled his head back, closing his eyes. "I don't. But that isn't going to stop me from asking."

Hermione gripped her glass tighter in her fingers, staring down into the bubbling beer. The curls of her hair dangled dangerously above her drink. She wondered why Draco Malfoy would care to ask her why she was having such a hard day, and maybe it was the firewhiskey, but at the moment, she didn't really care. In that moment, she needed to get her frustration out, and maybe Malfoy wasn't an ideal sounding board, but… "Ronald left me tonight."

She watched him raise his eyebrows and whistle. "Dumped by a Weasley. That's got to be an all-time blow to the esteem."

"What?" She raised her head. "No. Ron didn't break up with me. He left me. We always have dinner on Thursdays, and instead, he decided to go to Harry's and I…"

"So you're mad at him for hanging out with his mate?"

"No." She turned her chair towards him, digging deep with her eyes to get her point across. She could see the silver flecks in his sky blue eyes as she spoke. "Every Thursday for the past two years, we've always had dinner. Maybe once or twice we've had to cancel because of work, or one of us being sick, but… but this time, it was different. This time, he just… didn't."

Malfoy had every opportunity for a quip. She knew he probably had several lined up behind that tongue of his, just waiting to find the proper one to tear her down, but instead all that was said was, "Well, bugger him if he gives up on two years with the 'brightest witch of our generation' to spend time with Pothead." He tilted his glass to her, downed the rest of his drink, and closed his eyes. There was something in him that she hadn't noticed before; not at their time at Hogwarts or their time at work. He gave off a calm, a touch of sadness that she never realized. It was so striking that she caught herself staring at him again and had to turn away and focus on her drink.

"Sometimes, I think our relationship is going sour," she spat out, unsure why but not caring, "And then, there're other times, when he brings me flowers or cleans my house. And I think 'He must love me.' Right? I mean, after two years-"

"After two years, you should already know the answer to that question, Granger. If you don't, you have your answer right there." Eyes still closed, Malfoy ran a hand through his blonde locks and inhaled. "Believe me when I say -if a man isn't proving he wants you, he doesn't."

She didn't know what came over her, but she reached over and touched his shoulder, startling him. She stared into his eyes, warmth in her cheeks, and said, "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah." He shrugged her arm off. "Don't think I did you any favors by telling you that. It wasn't meant to console you."

"I know." She nodded, embarrassed by her stray touch. She wasn't accustomed to touching Malfoy in any way, and her affectionate tone had made the evening turn awkward quickly. "Sorry. I think the alcohol his going to my head."

"If you apologize to me one more time, I'll curse you. I swear to Merlin. It doesn't feel right, coming from you. Like a House Elf who talks back."

Hermione nodded, understanding, knowing that the last statement should have put a fire within her, but her head was swimming slightly, and she enjoyed the taste of her butterbeer as it sloshed in the back of her throat. When she had drunk her mug to the last drop, she looked up to find Malfoy gawking at her. "What?"

"Seeing you. Like this. It's… odd." His sharp face studied her as if he were peeling her back layer by layer with just his eyes. "I never really could stand you. Always the pompous, arrogant witch. But you, like this… Vulnerable. Drinking. I have to say; it's a side that is quite tolerable."

"Gee, Malfoy. Tell me how you really feel." She narrowed her brown eyes.

"Draco," he casually corrected her. "We work together, for Merlin's sake."

"I don't like the thought of you calling me Hermione," she shrugged. "And Draco..." She mulled the name around on her tongue, unsure if she liked the feel of it, but secretly knowing it wasn't as bad as she had anticipated. "Draco makes it sound like we're chums. We're not." She pointed an accusing finger at him.

"Aren't we?" he jeered. "Working together. Having a drink after hours? Giving relationship advice? Sounds chummy to me."

"I don't know a thing about you outside of our time of work and school. You could be a serial rapist for all I know. I don't get chummy with rapists." The playful tone of her voice surprised even her. What was she doing, being friendly with Malfoy? This was the same man, years ago, teased her and enlarged her teeth to the size of a beaver's at Hogwarts. The same man who nearly killed Dumbledore. The same man that, as a young teenage boy, had been given the opportunity to sell out Harry, Ron, and herself to the Death Eaters and didn't. Something stirred within her chest that she hadn't felt in a long time: forgiveness.

"I can assure you," Malfoy drawled in the same playful tone, "I am no rapist, ma'am." Alcohol reddened his cheeks and slurred his speech ever so slightly. He leaned over the bar top, closer to her, and whispered, "Care if I let you in on a little secret of mine?" Hermione found herself torn between being horrified and giggling. She settled with a dim smile. He continued. "I keep a stash of bourbon tucked under your desk. In case you'd ever irritate me enough to the point of framing you for drinking on the job."

Hermione's mouth fell agape, and it was at that moment in which Malfoy leaned even closer, his hot breath against her ear. "The look on your face is… priceless, Granger." The room started to spin. The loudness of the bar became all but muffled as Malfoy's lips caressed so delicately on her jawline. Not a kiss. Not an accident. It was a deliberate brush of skin. His lips trailed up, as did his face, his nose sliding up her cheek as he pulled away and back over to his previous, seated, nonchalant position. Hermione was sure she wasn't too intoxicated to imagine Malfoy's lips graze her neck, but by the casual way in which he sat, one would never know. She stared at him; wide-eyed, mouth still open until she watched him pull out a wallet and throw some galleons onto the bar top. "Hers is on mine too, Merlene."

"What?" Hermione snapped out of her trance; her head a little more level than before. "No, Draco, you don't have to-"

He put a hand up to silence her and smirked. "Oh listen to that. You called me by my first name. Isn't that sweet?" He stood up from his chair, stretched his long body, and yawned. "G'nite, Granger. See you at work tomorrow." And with that he left the tavern, leaving Hermione in his wake.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione was relieved that her head didn't throb with a hangover as she walked into the double-doors of her office and took a seat at her desk. Friday mornings meant no Malfoy, to which she was doubly relieved. She didn't think she could look him in the eyes after spilling her soul out to him the night before.

She worked diligently, only taking pause at her desk every now and again when she thought no one was looking to search for the alcohol planted to her desk by Malfoy. She hadn't found any so far, so perhaps, she decided, dully, Malfoy had played a cruel prank on her. Just to get close. Just to touch those pale lips ever so close to her throat. To tease her. To-

"What am I doing?" she whispered, scolding herself. "This is not appropriate for work." And Ron. She didn't have the luxury of thinking of last night because to think of such things made her feel she was betraying Ron. But was she? Was daydreaming about a coworker (no matter how vile he was) cheating? She closed her eyes and tried to remember Malfoy's smile, the way his throat contracted as he threw back his alcohol, the way his lips felt so warm as they grazed her skin.

"Hermione?"

Ron's shaky voice was all she needed to snap back to reality. He stood in the entryway of the doors, a coffee cup in one hand and a copy of The Daily Prophet tucked under his elbow. He had dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept all night. "Hey… can we talk?"

Hermione's heart plummeted. Whatever Ron had to say, she could tell it was bad news. She brushed down her skirt as she stood up, pretended to ruffle so some paperwork for a moment, and walked to him as casually as she could. They strolled out into the hallway, where the afternoon shift made their way through to their assigned duties. "Ronald, this is hardly the time or place to talk. Can it wait?"

Ron shook his head, eyes big and jaw tense. "I know you weren't home last night."

Hermione played with the hem of her skirt as if had an imaginary tear that she could mend just by playing with it. "And if I wasn't? It's hardly any of your concern, seeing as how you were at Harry's all night." She watched his lip twitch. "You were at Harry's, weren't you?"

"I can explain." Ron started, his coffee cup shaking in his hand to the point that Hermione reached up and took it from him. "Look, Harry got caught back on his Auror training, and… and I got invited out for drinks with Lavender-"

"You went to have drinks with Lavender?" Hermione strained to control the pitch of her voice, which climbed higher in octave with each word as she asked, "Lavender Brown? Your ex-girlfriend from school Lavender Brown? The very one you promised me after we graduated that you wouldn't talk to anymore?"

"We work together, 'Mione. I have to talk to her sometimes."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a streak of light blonde hair exit the elevator. Draco Malfoy was dressed lavishly, with his blue and silver pressed work robes, not a hem out of place. His face was worn, tired, but also content as he waved goodbye to a man dressed in purple robes and made his way towards the office. When his eyes caught hers, she could have sworn she saw a faint smile trace the corner of his lips, but it ceased immediately when it fell to the red-haired giant babbling on to her in rambled explanation.

"-working together, how do you expect us not to speak? I can't very well-"

"Spell it out in smoke, if you have to," Hermione interjected, tearing her eyes away from Malfoy, "But a promise is a promise, Ronald. And drinks? With her? I… I need time to process this."

Hermione motioned to move, but Ron countered her and cut her off, remorse hidden in those pale blue eyes. Even his freckles looked saddened by her words. "It didn't mean anything. She's just a work friend. I did go to Harry's, after, and I felt so guilty I came by your place after that, but you weren't home."

Malfoy took his sweet time entering the office, Hermione noticed; he took a sip from the hallway fountain and fiddled with his tie. It was harder to concentrate on Ron's words with an audience. She sighed, bringing her thoughts back and gathering them up. What she said next was calculated. "You're right. I wasn't home. Because I, too, was out having drinks. With a coworker."

"You were?" Ron's eyebrows knitted together like a Weasley Christmas sweater. "You were out with friends, drinking? Without me?"

"The universe does not revolve around you, Ronald." She crossed her arms. "And friends is stretching it. But," She glanced over to Malfoy, just a glance, but it was enough to make Ron follow her gaze, "If you can converse with Lavender after work, then you shouldn't be mad when I tell you I had drinks with Malfoy."

The reaction she procured from Ronald was nothing short of glorious; his neck turned beet red, followed by his ears, and finally a dark pink tinge on his cheeks. It was obvious he was attempting not to yell as he said, "Malfoy? As in snot-nosed git from our graduating year Malfoy?"

"Yes," Hermione said flatly.

Ron mulled it around in his head. "Is this some twisted laugh?"

"No, Ronald." The coffee cup in her hands tilted slightly, the contents threatening to spill if she didn't contain her shaking body. "I went out last night, and Malfoy and I passed the time drinking. Completely innocent. I'm sure, just like you and Lavender." She put emphases on Lavender's name as she shoved the coffee cup into his hand, spilling some hot brew on his robes. With a satisfied smile, she looked over to the unobserving Malfoy, still fiddling with non-existent dirt under his nails, and said, "Are you going to go to work or primp yourself all afternoon?"

"Ooh, tough call," Malfoy smirked, glancing up to her. "I already have plenty of money, so unless you have something better to offer in that office…" He let his words trail off, sideways glancing at Ron, who was the color of a plum.

"How about the promise of not firing you?" Hermione quipped.

"I was done anyway." Malfoy sauntered past Hermione and Ron, chin up and confident, and strolled into the office without a second thought. Ron's hands shook so hard that the coffee was no longer a beverage but a new addition to his wardrobe.

"Fine, 'Mione. You have your work chums; I'll have mine."

Hermione's confidence boosted, she reached up and straightened his soggy tie. "I'm sure your relationship with Lavender is completely innocent. After all, who am I to tell you what to do? Now, if you don't mind, Malfoy and I have loads of paperwork to sift through…" It was the icing on the cake to watch Ron's ears turn the color of his hair. He nodded, coughed, and bent down to kiss her quickly on the forehead.

"See you tonight?" The stubbornness to not comment of Malfoy made his voice strain.

"I'm not in the mood. I might just go over to Harry's and play wizard chess." She knew the words cut deep, the sarcasm thick and blissful. Without another word, she cupped Ron's crimson face, kissed his cheek, and left through the double doors to her office without a second glance. As the doors swung shut, she saw Malfoy just to her left, leaning up against the wall.

"It's refreshing to see the world's most cliché couple hanging on by a jealous thread," he mused, scratching his chin. "Hope you didn't mind the theatrics back there?"

"Is that why you hung back?" She chanced a smile, still high off of the realization that she had won this morning's argument against Ronald. Not that it was very hard. Still satisfying.

"Couldn't leave a chum hanging, could I?"

"We're not chums."

"Say what you want, Granger. Don't get me wrong, the smell of muggle born reeks from you, but once you get past it, you're not too grotesque." He pushed himself off of the wall and followed suit behind her, settling into his desk just south of her. Hermione could feel his eyes boring into the back of her curly brown hair as she took her seat.

"Thank you," she said after a time. She pretended to mull over a paper as if it were important, but it was really her grocery list.

"For what?"

"For helping me back there."

"Weasley going out to drink with a female coworker? You honestly didn't buy that it was innocent enough, did you?"

"We had drinks," Hermione muttered, scribbling on her parchment, "And it was innocent."

Even as she said the words, she felt a strange sort of tension electrify the air between them. She took a few minutes before she glanced back at him, watching as he meticulously read over his mail. His desk, she noticed, was very organized. Not that it mattered. But still, it was strange to see. Maybe he had always been an organized person, but she had never taken the time to observe it for herself. She was just taking a note about how he arranged his quills from shortest to longest when she realized that she had been caught staring, blue-grey eyes glancing up, amused.

"Am I on display?" he jabbed, sounding annoyed in the usual Malfoy way. "By all means, stare all you want. Be warned, however, that I do in fact bite." His eyebrow lifted in a suggestive manner that made her breath catch.

"I was just admiring your organizational skills."

"Really?" He leaned forward and somehow that eyebrow went up further. "I've been this organized for the six months we've worked together, Granger. Longer even. Maybe if you had your head out of Weasley's arse for five minutes, you'd have noticed. Did you know that your hair is brown? The sky is also blue."

Hermione frowned. "You've made your point."

They worked in silence the rest of the afternoon, aside from the occasional work related question. It felt, to Hermione's relief, like any other day. Finally, she thought, some normalcy. But it was shaken when the clock struck eight and her department readied itself for closing hours. That's when she felt his cool hand touch her shoulder and a voice asking her to hang back when everyone began to filter out. She did as she was asked, unsure of why but not ready to leave just yet and face Ron, who would surely be waiting for her down in the entrance hall. When it was just them, Malfoy took a casual seat atop Hermione's desk and crossed his arms. Hermione, sitting in her chair, pushed it back slightly to avoid being too close to him. This was new, this daily conversing, this… development in their relationship. She wasn't ready to get too friendly. Trusting Malfoy was like trusting a snake. He did, after all, procure from Slytherin.

"You need a drink," Malfoy stated.

"Do I?"

"Your boyfriend just pronounced his infidelity to you in the hallway this afternoon. Yes, you do."

Hermione absently chewed on her lower lip, thinking. "It wasn't infidelity."

"Wasn't it?" Malfoy leaned closer, brandishing his hands on the armrests of her chair. "How did you feel when he said it? Did you feel confident in him after?"

"Well, no, of course not," She mumbled.

"Did you feel like he put your best interest at heart?"

"No…"

"Can you trust him never to do it again?"

His voice was smooth, like honey, and it poured into every crevasse of her self-confidence, filling in the gaps and replacing it with misgiving. That heat spread over her chest, up her neck, and into her cheeks. Yes, Hermione thought, a genuine and cunning Slytherin indeed.

"Just what are you doing here, Malfoy?"

He smirked, caught. "I need a drinking buddy. One I can confidently feel safe not to let me do anything that could wind me up on the front page of the Prophet and not take advantage of me in my 'delicate' state. And you need a drinking buddy because your future husband is a self-indulging knot who can't decide which woman he'd rather wank off to."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And how do I know that you won't take advantage of me in my 'delicate' state?"

His hands, still on either side of her on the arm rests, flexed around the wood. "Take advantage of the brightest witch of our generation? Without your noticing? I'd have to be daft to attempt that." There was a challenge in his voice, but he toned it down with his next comment. "So what do you say, Granger? I could show you where I keep the good stuff in your desk."

She managed a short laugh, rolled her eyes, and leaned back in her chair. "Well, you've hidden it well, because I spent all morning trying to find it to no means."

"Then allow me." He pulled his wand from his pockets and transfigured her stapler in front of her eyes. There, atop her desk, sat a rather large bottle of bourbon. His smirk didn't go unnoticed as he tucked his wand back into his pocket and slid off the desk, invading Hermione's personal space. There, looking down at her, he undid the clasp of his robes and shrugged them off, leaving him in his white button up and black slacks. She watched him stroll by her, place the robes on the back of his chair, and begin to undo his cufflinks. "You going to transfigure us some glasses, or sit there and watch me all evening? Honestly, Granger, I'm not a fresh book, so quit trying to read me."

Hermione's cheeks burned. She pulled her wand out, transfigured two drinking glasses from two quills, and poured them both a drink. When she looked over at him again, his sleeves had been rolled up to his forearm, and he had undone the top button of his shirt. He took the glass as she extended it to him, gave her a courteous nod, and took a sip.

"I thought you didn't associate with my sort of people," she said thoughtfully, following his lead and taking a draw from her glass. "You know, muggle-born scum and all."

He didn't falter in his answer, even for a moment, quickly saying, "I dated a witch couple years ago who I didn't know was muggle born until I nearly proposed to her. Taught me a few things about you lot. You're not too bad. Not pure blood status, by any means, but still…"

"Is that why you don't have a ring on your finger now?" She nodded towards his ring-less hand. "Because she wasn't pure-blooded like your family thinks everyone should be?"

He chose his next words more carefully. "My family has carried on the pure blood tradition for quite some time. Centuries, in fact. So much so, that when my mother learned she was muggleborn she paid her an obscene amount of money to leave me."

Hermione's eyes went wide, stunned by what she had heard. "Your mother paid your girlfriend to break up with you?"

"On the exact day I was going to propose, as it happened. I didn't know at first, but when I found out I called my mother out on it. She merely shrugged. As if it mea nt nothing. As if my heart breaking was just a casualty of my heritage. Why do you think I work in this dump?" He pulled from his drink while staring intently into Hermione's eyes.

"You were cut off?"

"I left. Figured all the money, all the wealth wasn't worth it if I couldn't be with someone I loved. So, I left in the middle of the night and haven't spoken to my family since. Got this bugger of a job, forced to work with you like I'm some commoner."

She ignored the slight. "I'm impressed, Malfoy. I didn't think you had it in you."

"That makes two of us." He clinked his glass together with hers and finished his drink. Then he poured himself another. They sat in silence for a time, drinking, occasionally meeting each other's eyes before tearing away. Hermione felt like she should say something, but what could she say? That she was sorry it happened to him? In the back of her mind, she knew that even though it was sad, it was good that Malfoy had been crestfallen by a terrible misfortune. He certainly seemed more approachable now. Still a git, still obnoxious, but not nearly as arrogant. He had been humbled. It made her feel something for him she had never thought she could: pity.

"Well," she finally broke the tension, "Enough of the heavy. Pour me some more?"

And so he did, and they sat back drinking, talking about work and coworkers and little stories of their childhood. Hermione learned that Malfoy hated Brussel sprouts, and she gave him a humiliating tale of her cutting her own bangs when she was four. Hours went by with them like that, laughing and drinking and occasionally staring at each other without words. Hermione would look away, pointing out something in the room she 'never noticed' before, or Malfoy would make some insult that would break the atmosphere. But it would always come back, after a time, until Malfoy had run out of cruel things to laugh at like her hair or her freckles or her frumpy shirt, and she could no longer find anything that would convince him she'd never noticed. So they simply stared at each other, Hermione leaned up against her own desk and Malfoy now sitting in her chair, feet up on her paperwork.

"We're out of bourbon," she muttered, attempting to contort her face into anything but the giggly school girl that it wanted to be. Alcohol had taken her long before now, and her nervous laughter tried desperately to escape her throat.

"It appears we are," he conceded, a broad grin set on his handsome face. His hands were tucked behind his head, extending his lengthy figure out and spreading his shirt tight against his wiry muscles. Hermione caught herself staring at him, again, but this time she didn't try to talk herself out of it. Maybe it was the sweet bourbon flowing through her veins. Maybe it was the realization that no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't hate this version of Draco Malfoy. She let her eyes linger on his taut form, the way his muscles flexed as he yawned, his silver-blue eyes as they watched her.

"It isn't polite to stare," he chuckled.

"It isn't polite to enlarge a girl's teeth in school, but you managed."

Full bodied laughs fell from both of them. Hermione grabbed her stomach because her sides hurt so much from laughing, and she couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard. It had been a lifetime ago. She reached out, before she could think, and braced her hand on his leg as she laughed. She could feel the atmosphere in the room change drastically within an instant. Malfoy's posture was suddenly aware she was touching him, even so slightly, and his back stiffened. His feet still propped on the desk in front of him, he stared at her hand on his pant leg and then to her. Had she done something wrong, she asked herself? Was touching not allowed in this amity? She removed her hand slowly, all the laughs died away. Malfoy lifted his legs from the table, stood from his chair, and stood there, eyes piercing into her soul. She was about to apologize for touching him, about to get up from her desk and leave, but he spoke first.

"I want to do something." His voice was quiet, uncertain.

"…Alright?" Hermione sat confused.

"I… I'm going to do something, and you aren't to move until I'm done."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not going to agree to that."

"Luckily for you, it wasn't a request."

He crossed the space between them slowly, watching her as she sat still until Hermione herself was unsure why she was going along with it. She had never liked being bossed around. Not by Ron or Harry or even her professors back at Hogwarts. She was a free thinker. A mindful spirit. She would never agree to something without consent. So when he left no space between them, no space to move or think or feel anything but his breath on her lips, she had half a mind to shove him away. But she didn't. She allowed his hands to brush against her knees, to separate her legs so that he could fill the final gap between them, hovering above her, her legs on either side of his hips, his hands rested gently on the table, caging her. His breath caught when she gasped, and then he raised his left hand to cup her neck, gliding his gently fingers to the back and softly gripping a handful of her hair.

"Not until I'm done," he whispered, eyelids fluttering closed as he bent over and brushed his lips ever so delicately along her collar bone, her neck, her jaw. Hermione's breath caught, and her heart began to race at an alarming pace. But she did not move, instead allowing her own eyes to close as he continued to graze her skin gently with his lips. He trailed them up, to the side of her cheek, tilting her head farther back, turning it so that they were nose to nose now. Only then did she allow her eyes to open, finding his immodest gaze on her. She rounded up the courage to say, "It's not polite to stare."

He chuckled, and she felt his warm breath against her lips. "No, I suppose it isn't. But neither are all of the filthy things I want to do to you right now."

Oh Lo rd, her heart was in her throat now. She could feel it pulse as he brushed his nose against hers as if inviting her to object or concede. Her first thought should have been on Ronald, on how he was probably sitting at home, alone, wondering why his girlfriend hadn't gone to her place tonight… again. It should have been on that this was Draco Malfoy, of whom she had detested most of her teenage years, who made her cry ugly tears in the girl's bathroom after being called Mudblood for the first time, of whom had done nothing but tear her down and make fun of her heritage. But all she could think was that his mouth was so dangerously close to hers and that she wanted nothing more than to taste it.

"Filthy?" she breathed.

"Distasteful." He turned her head ever so slightly and planted a kiss along her jawbone. "Dishonorable." His kiss to the other side of her jaw was just as soft. "Make you regret getting out of bed the next morning…" His other hand, the one that had been bracing him on the desk, snaked its way to her skirt and bunched it up, revealing the smooth skin of her thigh underneath. Hermione sucked in a breath as his grip on her hair tightened at the same time that his hand snaked its way up her leg and to her hip, just at the edge of her stockings. She thought she might faint at the feeling of abandonment as he suddenly pulled away, hand releasing her hair and breath no longer on her skin. He took a few steps back, admiring his handiwork as Hermione managed to open her eyes and stare up at him.

"Thank you," he smirked, not even trying to conceal the erection that pressed firmly against his dress slacks. He had a pink twinge to his cheeks, but there was no embarrassment splattered against those excellent features. Only pride. Only patience. Only a want that sparkled in his eyes.

"I-I… You… W-What?" She gasped for air, suddenly finding the ability to breathe again. When the fog in her head cleared enough, she brushed her skirt back down and crossed her arms. "What was that for?"

"Because I wanted to," he shrugged. "Because I wanted to see your reaction."

She wanted to seem in control. So she tried to look away from him, but unable to find the ability to do so, she simply said, "Well… was it the reaction you were going for?"

He boasted a laugh. "So much more." Hermione didn't like this, the not being in control of her own emotions as she watched him laugh so freely. She wanted nothing more than to wring that neck of his. Her eyes fell onto his tie, and she got a wicked idea. Again, alcohol might have come into play, but Merlin's beard, she didn't care. She reached up, grabbed his tie, and pulled him down just as she leaned up and captured his lips in a kiss. It was innocent, at first, with his wide eyes and her smug tug at the side of her mouth as she tried not to smile, but Malfoy came to his senses quickly and closed his eyes, relishing in it. He almost appeared pained as he opened his mouth slightly, deepening the kiss as he worked his tongue out to grant access. Hermione pulled back, unsure of taking the kiss too far, but he did not relent. Before Hermione could take control again he had his hand behind her head steadying her as he shoved them both back against her desk, knocking papers and quills and spilling ink all over the floor. Shocked, she opened her lips to gasp, and he took his opportunity to snake his tongue into her mouth, coaxing her own to move against his.

His free hand once again found its way up her skirt, this time to grip the soft flesh of her hip as he kissed her over and over again, occasionally breaking for air, but never relenting until he had her moaning into his mouth. He pulled away, then, gentle and subdued, and trailed his hand from the back of her neck, to her throat, down the sides of her shirt, and even further down until it snaked its way around her backside and scooted her closer to him. He stared her in the eyes, mouth parted and breathing unhinged. He landed a softer, much sweeter kiss to her lips. Unlike the first one, where she had tried to pull away once she had lost control, this kiss held her in place, allowing her to kiss back slowly, surely, giving her the full supremacy no Malfoy had ever bestowed on a muggleborn. Her hands worked leisurely up his chest, feeling the smooth muscle underneath, up to his collar, then up into his hair, where she found her fingers liked to roam as they pushed their way through the soft locks.

His hands found their own way, finding solace in resting their thumbs just at the top of her legs where they met her pelvic bone. His other fingers spread out along her hips, cradling them like delicate artifacts. Oh, how she wanted him to grip her tight, to put any amount of pressure so close to… but instead, his thumbs began to trace small circles along the delicate flesh, sending goosebumps up her spine and a fire in her lower abdomen.

"Draco," she broke the kiss as her head fell back. The sensation of his fingers along her pelvic bone made her legs shake. She hadn't been touched like this, so precise and full of pleasure. Anything close to this had been fumbled and unsure. But not Draco's hands. No, his hands were as strong as they were mild, as secure as they were of their own mind.

He took her head tilt as a sign of obedience, and he massaged the skin there with more pressure, just as he sunk his lips onto her neck and trailed brazen kisses along her pulsing veins. Hermione's body flitted, giving in to his ministrations and completely forgetting who was giving them. As if he sensed that, he trailed his tongue up to the shell of her ear and whispered, "Say it again. My name."

Hermione's courage found words. "No," she whispered back.

His fingers on her skin tightened. "What… did you just say?"

"I said," she teased, tilting her head forwards so that she could look him square in the eyes, "No."

The inner workings of his mind were written across his face as he pondered a response. Frustration. A need to assert himself. A deliberation to contain himself. Then his face fell into a smirk, that one his was so infamous for, and he released her hips, stepping back enough for Hermione to notice the sudden loss of body heat. Not enough to be completely done.

"Very well. -You're on probation, then."

"Excuse me?"

"Until you say my name, I will not allow you the luxury of pleasure." Danger lurked in those cunning eyes of his. "If you insist on being difficult, so will I."

"What do you-?" She started but was cut off by Draco's hands scooping her up to stand, then twirling her around on her heels and pushing her down on her desk, one hand on her hip and the other on the base of her neck. She felt her stomach press against the hard wood, felt his sudden presence behind her as he ran his hand from her hip to her skirt, then bunching it up against her waistband to reveal her, covered in nothing now but a pair of laced cotton panties. He gave out a feral growl as if to contain himself, and with a delicate touch of his other hand rubbed the back of her neck.

"Say my name," he challenged. "Say it or I make you."

Somewhere in Hermione's mind, she knew she should be frightened. She was being pressed against her own desk, bent over and exposed to the one person who at one point in her life wanted nothing more than to wish her death. But somehow it made the situation that much hotter. That much more dangerous and that much more of a challenge. She gave a fake laugh, one to mock him. "Doubt it."

The grip on her neck tightened again, and he bent over to whisper in her ear, "Careful, Granger. I do believe your Gryffindor is showing." He licked the shell of her ear to hear her moan, then took one of her hands that braced her and twisted her arm behind her back. It was entirely too quick for Hermione to do anything but gasp in discomfort and, dare she feel… anticipation. His other hand left its place atop her skirt to gather the other arm and then joined them together at the small of her back, pulling both wrists together with one firm hand. She didn't even struggle. With her new position, she found mocking him to be slightly less thrilling. She was, for the most part, completely under his control now.

"Last chance," he said, running his now free hand back down her backside and cupping one of her cheeks. "You can say my name now and save yourself the trouble."

She giggled, testing his grip on her arms as she wriggled beneath him. "Do you think I'm scared of you? I could hardly be scared of-"

Whack. A firm hand drew back and shut her up with a slap to her left ass cheek. She inhaled as the burn of his hand spread across her skin. Her eyes rolled back. Her breath caught. At that very moment, she was torn between pain and bliss. The hand left her again, just in time to come down even more forcefully against her, scooting her forward against the table and pressing her uncomfortably against her office supplies. She groaned, this time sore, but closed her mouth quickly for the third strike to come. As it did, she fought back the guttural moan that forced its way up her throat. She pressed her lips together, attempting to muffle the sound, but he heard.

"You know, I think I like the drunk version of you," he chided, giving her another firm smack on the ass. "It has all the essence of a dirty school girl."

Hermione moaned, loud this time, as his hand whipped over the already burning flesh of her backside. Her head fell forward, forehead resting against the thick wood of her desk. She waited for another, braced for it, but instead felt him caress her where she hurt, taking his nails and raking them lightly against the site. "Mmm… God…"

"God isn't my name, Granger, but I'm flattered."

Hermione frowned, realizing slowly the position in which she found herself. Maybe she was sobering up. Maybe she realized then who she was allowing to spank her over her own work desk in the middle of the night. Maybe she didn't care that it was Malfoy who had her pinned down and whispered things in her ear that she had only read in tasteless romance novels.

Her legs shook, her breathing labored, and her want far outweighed her need for control. What she needed was someone to take control of her life, and Malfoy was going to make sure she was taken care of, but with one simple request. A dynamic one. An intoxicating one.

"Draco…" she sighed against his restraint, moaning as his hand gripped her harder at the sound of his name. "Draco, please…"

She couldn't see it, but she could almost sense his smirk as he released her arms and turned her over on the desk, splayed on her back, skirt drawn up, shirt halfway up her torso. He lowered himself onto her, pressing as much of his body he could into hers without suffocating her. It was as if he needed to feel their bodies smashed together. He took her lower lip between his teeth, played with the supple muscle there, before he dipped his head forward and stole a deep, profound kiss from her just as her fingers found solitude in the comfort of his hair. Each kiss melted into the other. Draco's hands found the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up and over her head quickly. Hermione fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, managing to get about half way down before his fingers slipped behind her and unclasped her bra.

Her eyes went wide. Why this was a tilting point for her was anyone's guess, but she suddenly stopped her attack on his buttons and stared up at him, bewildered. He read the tension in her body language and stopped for the moment. He just stared at her, calm and destructive, a mix of ice and fire. Then his hand slipped up to the front of her bra and tugged it forward and down, releasing her into the night air, eyes never leaving hers.

After a pause, he licked his lips and said, "Alright there, Granger?"

She thought about it a moment and then nodded. Yes, she thought calmly. She was okay with this. She watched the tension leave his face, replaced by calm confidence once more. His chest heaved up and down, eyes falling from her face to take her in. By his expression, he was very okay with this too, indeed. He leaned forward and trailed kisses down her collar bone, down her shoulders, catching a bit of skin here and there between his teeth as he trailed further south, until his mouth found its destination and grazed against the erected flesh of her nipple. Hermione sighed contently as he took her into his mouth, teasing gently at the skin there until her nipple was stiff and begging for attention. After a swirl of his tongue, he drew a line with it to the other nipple, where he administered the same care as before, a hand coming up to cup her other breast. His teeth, his tongue, his hot breath were all so amazing that Hermione arched her back for more. This, she thought, was exactly the way it was supposed to feel. Not annoying and for the man's enjoyment. Draco made her feel as if this was simply for her pleasure and hers alone, and that he would do anything to stimulate her excitement.

"Draco," she sighed again.

His touch became more passionate as if saying his name awakened a sleeping beast inside of him. He kissed her breasts, her chest, traced her stomach with his tongue, bit at the exposed skin of her neck and shoulders, and finally settled on nestling his face in her curls to whisper, "Again."

"Draco."

"Mmmh…" His voice vibrated against her eardrum. "I wonder if you taste as good as you sound. I suppose there's only one way to find out…" A hand snaked down her arm to her stomach, resting at the top of her skirt. "Unless you're frightened you'll enjoy it too much."

Hermione couldn't find words because she wasn't at all sure what she wanted, but she did know she wanted the tension to release, that she wanted to feel that spectacular tongue on her skin again, and she nodded.

"Is that a yes? Or an agreement that you're chicken?"

She almost growled out of sheer frustration. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're the one who's afraid, Malfoy."

It was just the kind of quip he needed to pull himself off of her and settle to his knees on the floor. There he put her legs on his shoulders and nestled between them, eager to remove the delicate piece of clothing between him and his goal. His eyes turned upwards to her. Waiting. Determined not to break until she said it.

"Draco…" she whispered, growing more roused at the sight of him between her legs and practically demanding with his eyes to please her. "I-" But she didn't finish her thought because suddenly his hot tongue was on her, only separated from its destination by her panties. Hermione's words were replaced with a loud moan. She, in all honesty, had never known what this felt like before. She'd only been with Ronald intimately, and he had hardly been up to code with what passed as foreplay. So when his fingers pulled her underwear to the side and his tongue slipped against her, she all but lost it. Hands went instantly into his hair, her hips bucked forward, and her mouth parted in a silent 'Oh.' She heard him chuckle as he dove his tongue out again, sliding up against her wetness, trailing it ever so slowly over her clit. Hermione's toes curled as she struggled to remember how to breathe. Draco felt so good, his mouth even more talented here than it had been to her breasts. She wondered how many woman he'd pleased before her with that tongue of his, but the question was instantly forgotten as he flicked his tongue quicker, just at the spot where it counted most.

"Oh, my…" she gasped. "Right there, oh God…"

He felt her out, going quicker or slower, taking in each response and correlating his style to fit her needs best. He somehow knew when she needed it slower, and when she needed him to spin his tongue around her clit. He knew when to pause to keep her from coming, knew just where to focus to make her head fall back. He was teasing her; she realized after the third time of sending her to the brink, only to leave her wanting more. He was forcing her to want him even more than she already did. And God, did she want him. Her lower abdomen warmed as he whispered against her thigh, "Fuck, you taste so delightful… Would you like to come, Hermione?"

His question caught her off guard: the entire night, he had been demanding and forceful in his advances. Hearing him ask her a genuine question of what she wanted, genuinely asking, and saying her name –her first name for the first time this evening … somehow it made her even more vulnerable. She blinked her eyes, staring at the ceiling, throbbing and willing under his touch. Yes, she thought to herself. Yes, she did want to come. She didn't want to wait any longer. She needed the release, and she needed him to give it to her. "Please." She gripped a fistful of his hair and closed her eyes. "Draco, I need it."

That was all he needed. He grabbed her panties and ripped them down her legs as if they were going to do her harm if he didn't get them of immediately. When he slipped them off of her ankles, he put her legs up on his shoulders once again, but instead of settling his head between her legs, he slid his hand up her thigh, closer and closer, testing the waters. When he was sure he wasn't going to be kicked away or told off, he leaned forward and bit her hip bone with care, teeth grating against the sensitive skin at the same time that he slipped a finger into her without warning.

Hermione was in ecstasy. She could feel how wet she was the moment his finger curled inside of her, and with the hot breath on her hip and his touch as he found her sweet spot nearly instantly, she felt herself becoming even wetter. His finger slipped out of her slowly, teasing, before he slammed it up inside her again, beckoning her to feel him as he continued this process over and over, each time curling at just the right spot before leaving her again. Each time he wasn't inside of her, it was like her entire universe collapsed. She needed his touch, desperate to feel whole again. When he found a good pace, he slipped another finger into her, again without warning. She swore she could see stars shining just behind her eyelids. Her hips began to rock against his fingers, desperate for more contact. She slanted her eyes open just enough to see him staring up at her. His face was content as though this were common place on a Friday night to finger her in the office they both worked at in the Ministry of Magic. As he caught her eyes, his lips drew back in a smirk.

"How close are you?" he breathed into her thigh.

"Half way…" she sighed back.

He tilted his gaze back to where his fingers still pumped gracefully inside of her, and again Hermione felt more vulnerable. The way he was looking at her… as if what was between her legs were some enticing meal and he was simply playing with his food. She had never been looked at this way. It made her stomach do a flip and her cheeks flush.

"I wonder what could take you over the edge?" He leaned his head forward, fingers still curled up inside of her, and licked her clit just as he found her sweet spot. Hermione all but shouted a string of obscenities in the wake of the new found pleasure. Deep inside of her, she could feel a tension building. When he repeated the motion again, tongue swirling and fingers coiling, she turned her face to the side and whimpered. "Oh, holy fuck..." She could feel herself tightening around his fingers, building up for something far greater. "Right there. Mmm, don't stop." And so he didn't, continuing to lap at her in time with his thrusting fingers until her legs shook violently over his shoulders and her back arched wildly as she was sent into a primal orgasm that had her moaning and pulling harshly at his hair. She had never come like this, splayed out and adored like a fine wine. Draco kept his tongue on her clit as wave after wave of her orgasm hit until there was no more and she fell backwards on the desk, spent. She felt him remove his fingers and watched as he pulled himself over the table atop her and traced his fingers over her lips. "You should taste yourself."

This was also new. Bravely she opened her mouth and let him slowly put his fingers all the way till they hit the back of her throat. She concentrated on not gagging, found it was easier to do so than she thought, and suckled at the taste of herself. It was enough to make Draco whine under his breath, "Bloody Hell, Granger. You suck on everything the way you just did?" She saw him bite his lower lip as he removed his fingers to the tip, then slip them back in her mouth again, over her tongue and down her throat. When she could take no more of his fingers, he groaned and removed them completely. Quietly he stood up, more flustered than she had ever seen him the entire evening, and scooped up her shirt and bra. He threw them to her with haste, avoiding eye contact as he walked around to his desk and pulled his robes over his shoulders. Hermione's eyebrows knit together in confusion, betrayed by her want for him.

She didn't understand. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." He shrugged, still avoiding her gaze.

Hermione thought it fitting to push her skirt down by this point. "I… I thought you liked what we just did?"

"I did." He nodded, looking every which way but at her. "I really did but… I have to go." He made to leave, but she jumped up from her spot on the desk and blocked his path.

"What. Is. Wrong?" She took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. When he did, she was even more befuddled. He still had that look of lust in his eye, as if his whole world were on fire at her touch, but he didn't look like he was enjoying it. Still, he scooped her up in his arms, closing the distance between them and planted a sensual kiss on her lips. When he pulled away, this time, he had covered up his anxiety with a façade, smirking as he said, "Have fun cleaning up the office." He gave her bum a firm squeeze, kissed her again, and strutted his way to the double doors. "See you on Monday, Granger. Have a pleasant weekend." And then he was gone, leaving Hermione standing in the middle of a mess with her heart in her hands.


	2. Liberation

* * *

**This is gospel for the vagabonds,**   
**Ne'er-do-wells and insufferable bastards**   
**Confessing their apostasies**   
**Led away by imperfect impostors**

**Oh, this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart _[2x]_**

**Don't try to sleep through the end of the world**   
**And bury me alive**   
**'Cause I won't give up without a fight**

**If you love me let me go**   
**If you love me let me go**   
**'Cause these words are knives and often leave scars**   
**The fear of falling apart**   
**And truth be told, I never was yours**   
**The fear, the fear of falling apart**

**"This Is Gospel" by Panic! At The Disco**

* * *

Monday morning came at a snail's pace, and when Hermione arrived at the Ministry of Magic, she could feel the nervous lump already settle in her throat. After everything that transpired Friday night, she thought she would be able to handle it better, but the entire weekend all she could do was fail to answer question after question as they sprang up like poppies in her head. She wasn't sure what she and Ron were anymore, and she sure as Hell had no idea what her and Malfoy were, and it took everything in her not to shake as she strolled into the elevator just a moment too late- for when she realized who she stepped in with her heart did a summersault.

"Ronald…" she nodded politely, taking in his tired expression and blood shot eyes. He chanced a glance at her, and, as the elevator doors shut, he reached out and scooped her up in a bear hug.

"Merlin's beard, Mione," he sighed into her hair. "I thought you were avoiding me."

"That's because I am, Ron." She pushed him off, very thankful that her hair covered up the remnants of teeth marks from Draco's mouth. "I called up Harry on Sunday. Do you know what he told me?"

"Hermione, let me-"

"He told me that he didn't have Auror training on Thursday night. That he had no clue you had planned to come over. That in fact, he hadn't spoken to you until Friday night, when you stalked my house."

"I wasn't stalking!" Ron's chest puffed out in defense. "I came by to check on you. I didn't see you leave that night, so I thought maybe you went home sick or…"

"Where were you Thursday?" Hermione's voice was grave and full of contempt. Ron opened his mouth to speak, shut it, opened it again, and settled on sighing.

"Lavender and I just had drinks. I promise. I swear to Merlin himself that's all it was….Bloody Hell, Hermione, don't look at me like I cheated on you!"

But the elevator already stopped, and Hermione was quick to exit. She could feel her cheeks burn with embarrassment, with contempt, with the realization that all the guilt she held in all weekend was for nothing, because when it came down to it, Ronald had lied about Lavender Brown from the get-go. Still, the little voice in her head chimed in, did that give her the right to do the things she did with Malfoy?

Malfoy.

Oh God. Would he be at work today? Would he act like nothing at happened? Would he avoid her like she was avoiding Ron? Would he be happy to see her? Relieved? Did he anticipate this as much as she did?

She was just about to push open the double doors to her department when she realized that Ron followed her out of the elevator and was standing like a wounded puppy behind her. She turned on her heels, eyes like daggers, and crossed her arms. "What, Ronald Weasley?"

"Hermione, you know I wouldn't do anything to hurt us. It was just drinks. I swear it." He reached out and grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb along her wrist. "I didn't want to tell you because of this reaction right here. But it was nothing scandalous. Lavender's engaged to some bloke in accounting. I promise, 'Mione, it wasn't anything."

Hermione stared down at his hand, the forgiveness already poised, but then she remembered something she had heard Friday night, even if that something came from Draco Malfoy. "But lying about it. I didn't feel confident in you. I don't believe you put my best interest at heart… I…" She withdrew her hand. "I can't trust you not to lie to me, Ronald." She turned away, refusing to look at his sullen face and stepped into her office, where she nearly ran smack dab into someone balancing an enormous stack of parchment.

"Oy, watch it!" the man snapped, his face hidden behind the piles of paperwork, but Hermione recognized it instantly, and her voice suddenly froze.

'Sorry.' It came out in a whisper so small not even she heard it, and she stepped to the side. Draco Malfoy set down his massive load of parchments on top of someone else's desk, turned to gripe out his assailant, then, when he noticed who it was, said simply, "Oh. It's you. Watch where you're going, Granger. One of those papers nearly poked out one of my beautiful eyes."

Hermione struggled to- then found her voice, and nodded. "Sorry, Dra-uh… Malfoy."

A puzzled look came over his face as if he were processing every syllable of her words, and then he shrugged. "I told you to quit apologizing. Doesn't suit you."

"You want help with those?" Hermione offered.

"No." He gathered up his stack of parchment again and then walked off, once again leaving Hermione to only wonder what was going through that mind-boggling brain of his. She gathered herself up, took a seat quickly at her desk, and waited for him to arrive back at his desk after a time. She wasn't sure what she should say, or if she should say anything for that matter. By the expression on his face, he was trying his very best to ignore her presence. An hour went by like this, and Hermione couldn't stand it any longer. She huffed and turned around.

"I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" she asked flatly.

Draco looked up from his work and raised a curious eyebrow. "Why would you think that?"

"Oh, I have no idea." The sarcasm oozed out of her as she lowered her voice. "It's not like we spent an enjoyable evening together, or at least what I thought as an enjoyable evening until you just up and-"

"Ho, Granger. Simmer down," Malfoy interjected. "You'll make a scene."

"And so what if I did?" She whispered. "You… you can't just… just do what you did."

"And what exactly did I do?" He smirked, setting his quill down. "Please, describe it to me in glorious detail."

Hermione spun around and searched for some spare parchment. There, while she was sure no one was watching, whispered an incantation upon two pieces of fresh paper, nonchalantly placed one of them on Draco's desk, and then began to scribble on her own, watching as the ink disappeared almost as soon as she wrote it. But she knew where it would be going. She heard Malfoy chuckle under his breath, and heard the scribble of his quill.

Words formed on her parchment. 'I haven't used spelled parchment notes since Hogwarts.' The words faded after a moment, leaving Hermione to write again.

'Why did you leave?'

She waited, and after a few moments, the spell brought her paper to life.

'Does it matter?'

'Of course, it matters!'

'Miss me?'

Hermione's quill faltered. Then she wrote. 'Can you be serious for one moment? Talk to me.'

The ink faded into the parchment, and she didn't receive a message for quite some time. Then…

'Not now.'

'When?'

'Patience, Granger. So anxious to get me alone again?'

After reading and rereading the words before they faded away, she crumpled up the parchment and threw it in the trash. She hoped he watched. The time ticked by dreadfully slow. At lunchtime, she received a letter from Ron asking her to meet him and Harry for tacos, but, just like her spelled parchment, she crumbled it up- the letter ended in the trash. She decided to work through her lunch, and when Malfoy came back from his, he sat down a brown paper bag on the edge of her desk, then strolled back to his without a word.

"What's this?" Hermione turned to look at the paper bag, then back to him.

"You know, for some reason, I thought you'd be able to identify food when you saw it. Silly me. Guess I shouldn't give you that much credit." He nudged at the bag for her to open it, which revealed a box of Chow Mein and a spring roll. "It's not poisoned. Too many witnesses for that."

Hermione smiled softly. "Thank you."

He nodded as he took the compliment and went back to his work, where he stayed busy for a good portion of the afternoon. Hermione finished her food leisurely, surprised by Draco's kind gesture. As the evening hours rolled in, Hermione's shift came closer to an end. She knew Malfoy would have a few more hours, so after she clocked out, she walked back over to their corner of the office and settled against the edge of his desk. The majority of the other co-workers had already left, leaving them and two others on the far side of the room.

"Why did you walk out on me?" She asked, arms crossed, eyes set on his face. He tried to pretend to scribble on a parchment busily, but she brushed her leg against his arm and caught his attention. "Tell me."

"Does it matter?" He said dully, trailing his eyes from her leg, up her skirt, and to her face. "You had fun, right?"

Hermione's eyes grew wider, and she struggled to keep her composure. She coughed, uncrossed her arms, and set a small piece of folded paper down in front of him. "If you don't have plans tonight, I'd like to invite you to dinner."

"Dinner?" he scoffed. "With you?"

"Oh, don't make it sound like its torture. You have a choice. You can… go home. Drink. End up on the front page of tomorrow's Prophet, or… you can eat spaghetti with me, drink, and we can talk about what happened on Friday. Your choice. My address is on the note." Hermione stood up and straightened out her skirt. "If you decide to come, I like red wine. And you should know I don't care much for flowers. Dinner is at eight." She sauntered away from him then, only pausing to gather up a few files she needed to sort through at home before she made her way through the double doors, a smirk plastered across her pretty face.

* * *

Eight o'clock drew steadily near, and Hermione already had her spaghetti noodles boiling when she went to pick out something to wear. Nothing too suggestive, because she didn't want to scare him off, but nothing too relaxed that said I like to wear stained shirts to dinner with friends. Or coworkers. Or… ; that She settled on a blue polo shirt of hers and her favorite cargo shorts. She went back into the kitchen and had just decided that he might not come at all when there was a faint knock at the door.

She held herself back from rushing around the house, ran her fingers through her hair to settle it, and did her best casual walk across the house to open the door. What she saw she did not prepared for: in her entryway stood Draco Malfoy, no longer in his robes or his work button up, but in a casual gray t-shirt that clung nicely to his slender frame, wearing standard canvas pants and, dare she even say, casual shoes. It sent her head spinning. In his hand was a bottle of wine, the other hand tucked neatly behind his back. He had a mixed look of frustration, agitation, and relief at seeing her face.

"You showed," she stated.

"I know, I'm just as surprised myself." He shoved the wine into her hands and strolled into her house. "Small place."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shut the door. "Well, since it's just me, I don't think it's that small."

"Weasley doesn't have his own closet space by now?"

She sighed. "I'd rather not talk about Ronald at the moment." He nodded, revealing his other hand. In it was a book. A thick one, with a leather binding that appeared to be very new. Hermione stared at it. "What's… what's this?"

"You said you hated flowers. Thought this might be a bit more up your alley." He sat the book in her hand, took the wine out of her other, and watched as she carefully traced her fingers over the title. A History Of Wizards and Witches of the Middle Ages. "I don't care much for history, but this always kept my attention. And before you say you can't take it, you can. I had two copies. So do close that hanging jaw of yours. You'll let the flies in."

Hermione closed her mouth slowly, a faint smile tickling the lines of her face. "That was very sweet of you."

"You sound surprised."

"To be honest… I am a little. –Oh, the food!" She placed the book back in his hand, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and ran over to strain her spaghetti noodles. "You can put the book and wine on the counter. Dinner should be ready in five minutes."

Silently, Draco did what he was told, settling in on the stool under the island counter and watching her prepare. Hermione felt his eyes on her every moment, from the time she mixed the spaghetti with the sauce, to her dishing it out and setting it in front of him, to where she spelled wine glasses down from the top of her refrigerator and idly sat across from him as the wine bottle poured itself. They ate in silence, occasionally talking about work or how good the food was until they had both had two plates full and a good glass of wine each. As the dishes loaded themselves into the dishwasher, Draco watched like he had never seen something so odd. "Muggle things are so unusual."

He poured them both another glass of wine, this time manually and without magic, and scooted his stool closer to hers, on the same side of the counter. Hermione saw her opportunity, and asked, "So… about Friday night…"

"Really?" he groaned, taking a swig of his wine. "Are we going to go into this right now?"

"Why not?" She glared. "Malfoy, you left me with a lot of unanswered questions, and I am not a witch that likes to be toyed with. So I demand to know why you walked out on me."

Draco traced his fingers around the edge of his wine glass as if somewhere deep in that burgundy liquid would reveal his answers. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and deflected. "How are things with you and Weasley?"

"With Ron and I?" She leaned closer, aware that he pulled back as she did so. "I… I don't know. I found out he did a lot more lying than he led on. I'm not talking to him at the moment. We're... taking a break." His eyes turned sideways to meet hers. "What does that have to do with you walking out on me? Are… are you jealous?"

He raised a superior eyebrow. "Jealous? Of what? Of a red headed dolt who doesn't know the difference between a toilet brush and a hair brush? I think not." He pulled from his wine, tearing away from her gaze.

"Then what…?"

"You want to know the real reason, Granger? Why I didn't feel like going through with that night? Because it didn't mean anything, did it?" He forced his eyes to look elsewhere, anywhere else but on hers. "Because when all is said and done, the dream couple will never split up, and I honestly didn't feel like being someone's inglorious regret."

"You think I regret what we did?" Her eyebrows laced together in concern.

"If we had done what I would have liked, you would have." He tucked his face low, as if embarrassed. Hermione didn't think Draco Malfoy had a side that could feel humiliation. She didn't like the way it played on his face. "Face it, Granger. You fooled around with me to get back at your carrot-topped oaf."

"I did not." Hermione slammed her hand down on the table. "No, I did not at all!"

"Of course, you did. You were drunk, and so was I, and while I find your presence a little more tolerable now than back in school, it doesn't mean that anything we did was anything special. You were hurt, and I was drunk and…" He put his face in his hands and rubbed his tired eyes. Then he looked to her. "We're drinking buddies. We get drunk; we swap stories, and we might end up getting a bit too handsie. So, whatever guilt your feeling, whatever way you've had to talk yourself into telling yourself that Friday night was okay and that you didn't cheat on your precious Weasley with me… just…" He reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand. "Just… it was my drunken mess. You don't need to feel guilty about it." His thumb brushed her skin, coaxing her. "You don't need to talk to me at work. And you most certainly don't need to cook me dinner." He removed his hand and went back to drinking. "It was a drunken mistake. And you don't need to make kind gestures because you feel guilty."

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" She frowned, a hand falling on his. He glanced at it, decided it was alright for the moment, and chugged down the rest of his wine. "I'm not. I… I don't feel guilty."

He did another sideways glance.

"I don't." She assured him. "Do you?"

His next words were crisp, cutting. "I won't play third wheel to your relationship with Weasley. I'm not here to comfort you when he screws up."

"I… It wasn't comfort." She removed his wine glass from his hand, turned him towards her, and leaned forward. "Are you seriously trying to watch out for my feelings right now? If you honestly think that the only reason I let you put your hands on me the way you did was out of some drunken exhilaration to get back at Ronald… maybe you should leave."

She hoped these words would make him confess her wrong, but, when he went to stand, she realized she made a terrible mistake. She gripped at his arms and shoved him back down into his chair, jumped up out of hers and crawled into his lap so that she straddled him. She didn't care that he looked a little less than amused at her, and she didn't care that his arms lay slack against his sides as she cradled her arms around his neck. All she cared about was that his lips were parted, his breathing was labored, and that she could feel his heart pulsing in the veins of his throat. "Granger, what in Merlin's name do you think you're-"

She sent her lips crashing down on his, relishing in the flavor of the wine on his tongue mixed with the garlic of the spaghetti they had eaten. He groaned into her mouth much like the way he had the first time they had kissed, only, this time, it was Hermione to push her tongue further in, eliciting a response from his tongue as they wrestled for dominance. His hands sprang to life and wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer on his lap and rubbing fabric against fabric. They gripped at her back pockets, supported her ass as he suddenly picked her up and, in a slightly fumbled fashion, carried her to the couch, where he leaned her back and crawled on top of her.

There, his hands explored, tracing the curve of her shoulder and the dip in her stomach, the subtle lines of her legs and finally rubbing at the fabric between them. Hermione whimpered in response, breaking away from the kiss at the sheer pleasure of finally being touched by him again. His fingers massaged the outside of her shorts, delicate little circles until he had her wriggling beneath him. His mouth never left her body, finding ways to kiss or to suckle or to bite at any bit of skin he could find. But when his hands went to the top of her shorts to undo them, she came to her senses and pushed his hand away.

"No," she whispered, sitting up and forcing him to do the same.

"Do you remember what happens when you tell me no?" he teased, reaching out to cup a bit of her curly hair. "Do I need to remind you how frustrated I can get?"

She grinned at him, her hands tracing down the seams of his shirt. "No, Draco." She purposely purred his name. "But I think if you give me some control right now, you'll find it very enjoyable." To her relief, he conceded, leaning back against the couch and not arguing as she pulled his shirt off over his head and crawled once more on his lap. She left lazy kisses on his neck, down his shoulders, biting here and there against the firm skin, then much to his joy she slid lower, off of the couch to rest between his legs. There was no hiding his erection from her; she could see it outlined perfectly through his tight fit pants, which made it that much easier when she undid the button off the top and pulled the zipper down with her teeth.

"Bloody Hell…" he breathed, laying his head back against the headrest of the couch. Hermione watched him close his eyes, thoroughly enjoying himself, and she heaved an inward sigh of relief. He wasn't bolting, wasn't trying to find some excuse to leave. Draco let her take full control over him, and the thought alone made her entire body tingle. She trailed her tongue over the pale fabric of his pants, right over his stiffness, and he rolled his hips ever so slightly. He moved to retrieve himself, but Hermione slapped his hand away and licked delicately along the fabric again, and again and again until he was even harder than she thought possible. Then, and only then, did she trail kisses along his stomach as she tucked a hand into his pants and pulled his cock out in all its glory. It was longer than she thought it would be, guessing the pants had a part in that, and she simply admired it for a moment. He was warm, pulsing in her hand, and the muffled sighs from his mouth gave way that he was practically begging for her to do something with it.

"It's big…" she whispered to herself, recalling Ron's average size but slightly larger girth. But Draco's… it was like perfection.

"Imagine…" He trailed his fingers through her hair and settled a hand delicately on the back of her neck, "How big it would feel… in that lovely mouth." She could tell it took everything for him not to force her.

"I wonder," she smirked up at him, "How you taste?" She used his same inflections, his same coy grin, before perching her head just above his pulsing cock. Her tongue trailed just around the head, taking in the salty taste of him and his pre-cum, the silky feel of his flesh. And then she got braver, taking the tip in her mouth, earning a massive sigh from Draco.

"Fuck's sake… That's it. Take it, Granger. Just like that," he muttered as she slid her mouth further and further down his cock until it hit the back of her throat. The first time caught her off guard, so she slid back up, trailing her tongue along the shaft as she went, and swirled her tongue around the head again before diving down much quicker, pushing the limits of her throat as she felt herself swallow. Draco's grip on her neck tightened, and his other hand fisted a handful of curls. "Merlin! You suck people off as a side job? Ah… that's it. Good girl. Take it all."

Hermione held her head down as long as she could, relishing in the feel of his cock so deep in her throat until she finally had to come up for air to breathe. She teased him a little more, licking up and down his shaft, playing with the sensitive skin at the slit until she caught her breath, then she took him in again, slower this time, then up and then back down, each time taking a bit more of him in. She felt his cock twitch when she went down a final time and took every single bit of his length.

"Gonna… make me…" He was gentle with her, rolling his hips ever so slightly, angling his dick further in her throat. Hermione thought he might come right then and there, and she would have loved it, but he pulled her off of him at the last moment and dragged her head up into a long, passionate, sensual kiss. When he broke it, he whispered, "Not yet."

Hermione nodded, understanding, and kissed him gently, settling back in on his lap, his cock still exposed and now pressing up against her shorts. The feel of him, there, underneath her with just a pair of pants between them made her even wetter than she already was.

"Tell me," Draco whispered. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Hermione felt her cheeks burn when she answered, "Books are our friends, Malfoy."

He chuckled, tugging up her shirt without hesitation. "Yes, in this case I'd say they are…" He whipped her shirt off over her head, threw it on the floor, and with the same quick motion removed her bra, this time not bothering to ask if it was okay because he already knew his answer. Hermione felt free like this, being looked over as a beautiful object to be admired. She watched as Draco leaned back on the sofa, staring at her in all of her grandeur, and made a pleased sound. "To think, underneath all of those ugly trifles you lay claim to as shirts, and there's this waiting underneath." He reached up and cupped one of her breasts, kneading it thoughtfully. "It is a sin covering it up."

"Draco, I- I need you to know something," she said, placing a hand on his wrist.

He pouted his lip. "Do you?"

"I need you to know I want this." Brown eyes found silver-blue. "You're not a third wheel. As of this moment, you're the first."

A grin played across his lips. "Am I?" He leaned forward and licked across her bare breast still cupped within his palm. "And how bad do you want this?"

"As bad as you want me."

"Not convinced." He rubbed his lips against her nipple, teasingly grabbing it between his teeth and tugging. "Convince me."

"H-How?"

He thought about it. "Go to your room, take off your clothes, and wait for me. Think you can manage that?"

Hermione nodded. He released her, watching as she gathered what composure she could to walk towards the door left to the kitchen and step inside. She felt in a daydream as she skirted off her shorts and underwear, noticing the trail of wetness between her legs. This was not at all what she had anticipated when she invited Malfoy to dinner. A conversation, maybe. A heart to heart. But this; crawling onto her bed and sitting patiently to wait to be ravaged by him… this was so much better. She pulled her hair back to cool her neck, breasts exposed to the night air, and felt much like a deity waiting to be worshiped. It was spectacular.

Except when he didn't come immediately behind her. She waited, seated on her knees on her queen size comforter, and as the seconds ticked by, so did the buildup of frustration between her thighs. Minutes passed, and she grew even more frustrated. She was so desperate for touch that she almost let her hand slip down, but she remembered the command to wait and did so. Just when she was all but pent-up on frustration, she saw his silhouette in the doorway.

"Good girl," he cooed. "Now be a good little Granger and turn around."

"What? But I need-"

"Convince me you need it. Listen to me and turn around." Hermione muttered under her breath but did what she was told and scooted so that she faced the wall. The weight shifted on the bed, and then his hands were on her thighs, his breath hitched in the curve of her neck. "You're shaking, love. Something wrong?"

Hermione didn't know which was worse: the fact that she was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm, or the fact that Draco calling her 'love' sent a heat wave through her to the core of her lower abdomen. She shook her head to answer him because she couldn't find words. They were something of a fleeting idea.

"Who do you belong to?"

Oh, God. How was she going to answer him? She struggled to find her voice, which had been left somewhere when he had called her love, until she spent so much time on an answer that he asked again.

" _Who_ do you belong to?"

"Y-You, Draco."

He kissed her cheek, sensual. "And do you know what I do to things that belong to me?"

Hermione shuddered. "Filthy th-things?"

"She catches on quickly… I'm going to enjoy this." He pushed her down headfirst into the pillows, leaving her ass up and exposed to him. There was a pause, where he said nothing, only admiring her as she closed her eyes and anticipated what would come next. Then his nails raked across her back, softly at first, then harder. It sent a burning sensation down Hermione's spine. She gasped in response, gripping the bedsheets. She could feel his warm hands trace sensual patterns down her hips, her thighs, and then just at the inner-most part of her legs where her body begged his presence. He spread her legs and outlined delicately over her wet slit with his fingers. "You're soaking wet." Then, without a word, he slid his middle finger into her and made her grasp at the bedding. "Ooh, someone likes. But you've been a bad girl, Granger. Haven't you? Tell me how bad you've been."

"I… I've been bad," Hermione agreed as he glided his finger out of her, holding it just at the end so that she wiggled under his touch for him to stick it back in again. "So, so bad. I've been-"

"A filthy girl. Such a bad little pet you've been. Maybe I should teach you a lesson for telling me no on the sofa? Would you like punishment, my beautiful little vixen?"

Every word was like a vibrating layer of heat that cascaded over Hermione's skin. Ron's idea of 'dirty talk' consisted of a few vulgarities and swear words, pointing out the obvious but never demanding anything or asking anything of her. Draco's words didn't even have to be obscene; he could simply string them together so that they sounded like a symphony no matter how direct.

She decided that if he could play this role, this overpowering master, she could at the least act her part. She nodded in response. "Good girl…" He purred, pulling her up and then over his lap so that her stomach splayed across his erection - and oh, God, she thought, he wasn't wearing pants. There was nothing to separate them as he pressed against her, the warmth of him sending her nerves into a frenzy. His left hand rested gently against the curve of her buttocks, the other tucked sensitively under her jaw, holding her head in place.

"How many times did you fantasize about me this weekend? Once?" He smacked her ass hard and electrified the room. Or at least, that's how Hermione saw it. Jolts of pain ricocheted up her spine. "Twice?" Another hard blow. His fingers around her throat braced her as she winced forward automatically. "Did you touch yourself? Did you come?" Over and over again he paddled her with his palm, sometimes alternating between the two cheeks, but favoring the left in particular until it was raw and pink. Hermione's head fell forward and pressed her neck further into his hands, where he then laced his fingers harder around the skin. She was shaking; she could feel it, but it didn't stop him from landing one last slap to her cheek to make her cry out. Then he released her throat, leaned over, and gave her cheek a gentle kiss. "What a good girl you are. You took your punishment so well. You deserve a reward."

And then his fingers were in her, pumping and pressing and searching for all of her vulnerabilities in this new found position. Hermione gasped into his hand, and he clasped it around her mouth to silence her as she mewled and moaned at his ministrations. He continued to roll his fingers into her, even when she wriggled from the pleasure and she thought she might surely faint. He slowed down eventually, rubbing her clit with his thumb and whispering dirty things to her in the middle of the darkened room.

"I could listen to you scream all night."

"Merlin, you've no idea how beautiful you sound."

"I bet I could make you come, just like this, you're so tight…"

The hand on her mouth loosened its grip, and he took to pushing two fingers into her mouth, timing them in and out with his other hand until he found a steady rhythm. She could feel herself closing in on her orgasm, and her breathing became shallow. She was almost there, almost on the verge, and Heaven's bells if it didn't feel like all of her sins were confessed to Draco in each moan that escaped her lips. Just as she was about to be sent over the edge, Draco removed his fingers and chuckled softly above her.

"Oh no. Did you think it would be that easy?" He mocked her, tracing his slick fingers down her spine and leaving a warm breath on her shoulder as he spoke. "What do you want, Granger?" His voice changed conviction, going from a sultry pain-pleasure delegator to back to a simple man with simple wants. He ushered her up to sit on his lap, draping her legs on either side of him. She wove her arms around his neck, head still in a fog, and rested her forehead on his shoulder. She muttered out her response, but he pretended not to hear it, so she said it again.

"You. I want you." Hermione felt helpless as she spoke. "Please. I'll do whatever you want, just…"

He nudged his lips against her ear. "Are you sure?" And she knew he was sincerely asking.

Her brain struggled to sift reality from fantasy, want from need, right from wrong. On the one hand, this was something so new and delicate; she wondered if diving into it head first would have unforeseen consequences. Draco Malfoy was a dangerous man, a man with selfish tendencies and a lavish appetite for the here and now. She didn't know what his temperament would be once he got his way. Not to mention that the thought of looking Ron or Harry in the eyes afterward was discouraging. But on the other hand, which weighed much heavier, she wondered how she would feel if she said no. Could she honestly let herself go on with her pent-up sexual aggression? Could she walk into work tomorrow, having not explored her desires, and ever work next to the mind-altering man, who cradled her so gently in his hands, again?

"I'm sure." She raised her head and caught his silver-blue eyes staring intently down at her. There was something written there, in those eyes. A sense of… anxiousness mixed with surprise. But it was a fleeting expression and was gone within another second. He replaced it with a glaze of lust and a hint of a smirk.

"Lay back," he demanded. And so she did, legs still wrapped around his slender frame as her head hit the pillows. Her curls tickled her neck and shoulders as she closed her eyes and braced herself. She felt his lips ravish her, and he braced his hardness against her thigh, drawing the moment out. Hermione groaned in protest. No, she wanted him now. She couldn't do this. She reached down, taking him firmly in her slender hand, and slid the tip against her wetness.

"Now." She growled, reaching up and tugging a bit of his blonde hair. "I need it now-"

He rolled into her, giving her no moment to think, to breathe, to prepare for him as he filled her up to the brim, stretching her in ways she could have only lusted for, filling her universe with him and only him. His breathing hitched as he took in the sensation of her, and Hermione realized (with mild amusement) that he was trying to control himself. Not from coming unhinged, but from driving into her harder, harsher, from taking away every bit of control she might have. Instead, he pressed his chest against hers, closing in every bit of extra space between their skins, fitting them together like two jigsaw pieces. He dipped his head forwards and kissed her just as gentle, making sure to take the time to caress her tongue with his. Then, and only then, did he remove himself to the very tip at a painfully slow pace and ram back into her again.

"Fuck…" he sighed into her mouth, pumping into her once more. "So… wet…" His rhythm was slow, his thrusts hard, building Hermione up and causing a craving in her that she couldn't control. Her hands raked over his back, his shoulders, his hips as she tried desperately to find solitude in touching him. Every time he slipped back in was deeper, harder, much more. It was like he was pouring himself into each and every thrust.

"Draco…" She moaned quietly, fisting his hair. "I need… harder…"

He obliged, picking up speed so that he could slam into her with more weight and make her eyes close tight from the force. He took her legs and pulled them over his shoulders, angling himself deep within her, pulling out from her each time a groan, a whimper, a sigh at each and every thrust. Hermione bit her lower lip and cried out when his hand reached down to draw circles with his fingers on her clit.

"God!" She gasped at the sudden rush of sensation. "Right there… Yes…"

"Say it."

Hermione all but shouted, "Draco."

His fingers pulled away, and he withdrew from her, Hermione a bundle of nerves as she lay there confused. That was until he rolled her over to her side and primed one leg over his shoulder, the other splayed out across the bed and shoved his hard, sure cock back into her. A hand reached up and cupped her breast as he worked himself deep in and out of her, rolling his hips in time with her labored breathing, letting her come undone beneath him. She imagined how she must look, sprawled out underneath him, pink tinted cheeks and rosy red lips pursed in an 'Oh' as he slammed harder and harder into her. The thought was every bit as exciting as the actual act.

"You want to show me how you ride a cock, Granger?" he teased, slowing down his hips and becoming much gentler.

Hermione nodded willfully, and he fell back against the bed to let her gather her wits and climb on top. His cock was so shiny, slick with her wetness, and with his arms behind his head like that, he looked like a demi-god that awaited his sacrifice. Hermione vowed, that moment, that she would unravel that insatiable smirk of his.

"You want me to ride you?" she teased, turning her body away from him and placing herself on all fours to present herself to him like a prize he had to earn. "Is that what you want, Draco?"

He reached down and ran his fingers over his length, holding it upright and ready for her. One hand still lay tucked behind his head, and Hermione knew that just wouldn't do. She sat up, back still to him, and perched herself directly above him, the head brushing gently against the wet lips between her legs. She felt him roll his hips up to push into her, but she pulled up farther, just out of his reach. It was heavenly to hear the frustrated groan in his throat.

"Beg me for it," she said as she bunched her hair back to expose her slender neck. "Beg me to sit on your cock."

"Bloody Hell…" Draco growled. "That's my game." He slipped his other hand, the one that was tucked so smugly behind his head, and traced his nails down her back before settling his palm against her hip. "If you were anyone else…"

"Beg."

She heard him sigh. "Please…" he hissed.

"Please what?"

There was a pause, no doubt him struggling with his inner consciousness, and then begrudgingly the words came. "Please, Hermione. I… I need it. Don't make me wait." It was sincere, angry, but most definitely begging. She grinned to herself as she slipped down onto him, taking all of him in one quick movement, eliciting a string of obscenities from his mouth. "Holy fucking shit, fuck me, Jesus-Christ…" He gripped a fistful of her hair and tugged her head back, arching her whole body. "Good girl. Ride me, that's it…"

Hermione did as she was told, rolling her hips to take him in and out of her. She found a pleasing angle where his cock hit her in just the right way to make her scream. He liked it, the sound of her screaming, because when he noticed he angled his cock even farther inside of her and gripped her hips tight with his hand that wasn't fisting her curls. "Draco…"

"Yes…"

"Draco!"

"Say it."

"Draco fucking Malfoy…" Hermione felt the inside of her begin to tighten. The buildup drove her to the point of bobbing up and down on him, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, her body so completely free and liberated… She came in a quiet moan as all of her breathing stopped momentarily to bask in the sweet relief. He let her slow down until she could no longer think to move, then rolled his hips up and let her ride out the rest of her orgasm as he fucked her from underneath.

"Again," he demanded and turned her around to face him as she sat on his cock. "Come again for me." Hermione's heart banged against her ears as he encouraged her to continue rolling her hips back and forth against him, building her up brick by brick. At this angle, she could feel every single inch of him, and when she thought she couldn't feel anything but the sheer length of him, her lower abdomen burned to tell her to keep going, to fuck him harder and ride his dick to the point of ecstasy. She could hear the whispers of reassurance from him, saying things like, "That's it, love, ride my dick just like that. You feel me so deep in you? Feel how wet you are? Who are you wet for, Hermione? Who's making you moan like a little whore?"

"You are…" she gasped, at the tipping point. Her ears flushed, as did her cheeks, and she knew that all he had to do was say one more thing to send her past the brink.

He leaned forward, angling his dick at the perfect spot, and whispered, "Come."

It was all she needed. For the second time, she was thrown into agonizing bliss, her walls contracting around the perfect length of him. He took her shaking body, then, and scooped her up into his arms, hugging her, reassuring her. He kissed her neck, her cheeks, her lips, washing the orgasm away into something else. It was defining. It was endearing. It was kind. A kindness Hermione had never expected from Draco Malfoy. When her orgasm was spent, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and met her eyes with his own.

"You like that?"

She nodded, shocked by the weight of it all. "I… I want you to come." She reached out and traced his jaw with her thumb. "I want to make you come." She corrected herself.

He smirked, leaning into her touch. He captured her fingers up with his mouth, sucked them for a moment, and then nodded. "On your hands and knees then, Granger. Like a good girl."

Her body was still tingling when she rolled off of him and got on her hands and knees across the length of the bed. She felt Draco shift the bed as he sat up, positioning himself behind her. One hand on her pelvis, he steadied himself with the other and slipped into her without a word. When he was deep, he put his other hand delicately on the other side of her pelvis and pushed just a little farther into her, enough to make her gasp.

"Please…" she groaned. "I want you to come."

"Then make me." He pulled out of her to the tip, hands still on her hips and guided her back onto him. Hermione took the hint and repeated the motion, arching her back as she slid backward onto his oh-so-willing cock. And there she fucked him, knowing that if she could be a fly on the wall she wouldn't believe her own eyes. Draco Malfoy brought out a piece of her soul she didn't know she had, a sexual liberation in her that only needed to be stoked to come to life. She got creative, gyrating her hips and loving the gasps and groans from his throat that spilled forth. His grips on her hips tightened, and she could tell he was so close. That's when he took control, driving himself deep inside her, over and over, swearing and clawing until he pulled himself out of her and came undone atop her glorious backside, warm and dripping.

"Fuck…" he whispered, spilling the last of his come on her. Hermione moaned quietly, feeling much like a sexual goddess and at the same time also like a deviant who was used for more than nothing but a good ride. It all was so wonderful, she fell forward onto the bed and closed her eyes, smiling. She felt his weight shift, and before she knew it, he was lying beside her, breathing labored, body spent.

She managed to turn her head to look at him only to find him already peering over at her. His chest heaved up and down. There was a bead of sweat on his forehead. His eyes were pensive. Slowly, he reached over and cupped her cheek with his palm. "That was…"

"Yeah." Hermione nodded in agreement. She scooted closer to him, turning her body to face his, and kissed him thoughtfully. "It was."

His thumb continued to draw up and down her jawline as he studied her like a painting, observing every line, every curve, and every color of her face. "What have you done to me?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed. She was going to find an answer to that glorious question, she truly was, but there was a faint knock from the front door that dulled the moment. Her heart leaped in her chest as she stirred herself from the bed.

"Hold that thought," she whispered and ran to her closet. She slipped on a cotton bathrobe, so very much aware that she still wore his cum on her, and padded out of the bedroom and towards the front door. She chanced a look in the mirror hanging between her living room and the hallway towards the bedroom and hardly recognized who stared back at her. Who was that woman, there, with her sultry brown eyes and beautifully parted lips? Where was the barely-sexual child that she had always resembled? What had _Draco_ done to _her_?

She attempted to fix her misshapen hair and turned the doorknob. A woman stared at back at her, wrapped in a pea-coat, mud covered leggings and goulashes. A woman by the name of Lavender Brown.

"Hermione, can we talk?" she asked as she shook out a dripping umbrella in her hands. Had it been raining? Hermione hadn't noticed. Her mind had been on… other things. She leaned against the door and frowned.

"About what?"

"What do you think? About Ron." Lavender's guilt-written eyes rested gently on Hermione. "I wanted to apologize. I didn't realize you two were dating, and when I asked him out to drinks I didn't mean to-"

"What are you sorry for?" Hermione perched up an eyebrow much the way that Draco would. "It was just drinks, right?"

"I… I wasn't sure what he told you about Thursday…" Lavender fiddled with the handle of her umbrella, nervous. "Honestly, Hermione, I would have never kissed him if I had known-"

"You kissed him," Hermione repeated back, knowing she should be more upset. Her voice barely rose above a conversational volume. "Huh. Well… that's news."

"I… you… you don't seem mad." Lavender pointed out as she chewed on her bottom lip. "But judging by your face, I assume Ron didn't tell you."

"No, he didn't." Her voice shook slightly. She furrowed her eyebrows together, thinking. "Thank you, Lavender. For telling me."

"He didn't kiss back," Said Lavender as if that very point would make it less of a blow, "And he felt awful about it. I could tell."

"He didn't say he was going to get drinks with you," Hermione said as she fixed her robe tighter around her. "He kept that part completely hidden from me until I bullied it out of him."

"Did he?" Lavender said nervously. "I am so sorry, Hermione…. I get that we weren't the best of friends in Hogwarts, but I do mean it when I say I never intended to hurt you or your relationship-"

"It's alright. Really," Hermione interjected. "He should have told you he had a girlfriend in the first place."

"I hope I didn't ruin it for you two."

"You didn't." Hermione smiled, encouraging. "He did. –Goodnight, Lavender. See you around work." And then she closed the door on Lavender's face, a faint smile tracing the outlines of her mouth.

When she turned around she saw Draco standing at the edge of the kitchen, his pants already back on but his chest bare. He held out a glass of water to her, and she gladly crossed the room and chugged the entire glass in one go. When she was done, she sat it down on the counter next to her and caught him staring at her.

"What?"

"Everything alright?" he asked, nudging towards the door. "Rather late visitor."

"It was nothing." Hermione shook her head.

"Didn't sound like it was nothing."

Hermione tossed the conversation around in her head, deciding if she were upset or not. After a time, she spoke. "I can't trust Ronald. I don't think he set out to hurt me, but I know that I can't feel comfortable with his word."

"Is it worth throwing all of that away over a lie?" Draco asked. She could tell he was careful with his inflections, attempting not to sound too eager for an answer one way or the other. She ran a hand down his arm, laced her fingers with his, and watched as he furrowed his eyebrows at her, confused. She then perched herself on her tip-toes and landed a soft kiss on his cheek.

"The right lie can end anything," she said the words as a warning, then kissed his mouth, slowly. When she pulled away, she rubbed her nose against his. "I can't trust him. And trust is probably the most important thing."

Draco seemed to fight with something deep within him, but it must have won, because he asked, "So… what does one have to do to earn _your_ trust?"

Hermione smiled, set herself down on the flat of her feet, and yawned. "Well, maybe not rushing off after a sexual encounter… that might be a start."

Draco smirked. "And a shower?"

Hermione smiled. "A shower sounds delightful."


	3. Aftermath

**Well I know it gets harder every single day**   
**And I know my darkness will never go away**

**It's hard when you're living and you don't feel much**   
**And you're down and you're hoping that things are gonna change**

**Oh we don't know the roads that we're heading down**   
**We don't know if we're lost, that we'll find a way**   
**We don't know if we leave, will we make it home**   
**We don't know, there's hope, then we'll be okay**   
**"We Don't Know" by The Strumbrellas**

* * *

The morning came dismally fast, sunlight peering past the curtains of Hermione's bedroom. An arm draped her shoulder, cloaking her in warmth. In her groggy morning state, she turned over, expecting to see Ron, but what she got instead was the sight of a contently sleeping Draco Malfoy. His face never looked more serene; mouth parted slightly, white-blonde hair hanging around the edges of his sharp features. Hermione tried to remember how he had gotten here… Oh God.

Hermione shot straight up in bed, stirring the sleeping Slytherin alumni as his arm fell. "OH God…" she whispered. "Oh my… oh my goodness…" She nudged Draco in the shoulder. "Malfoy… Malfoy wake up."

"Stop…" he grumbled, fisting the covers and pulling them tight against him. His eyebrows furrowed together, but he did not open his eyes. "Give me five more, will you?"

"No." She shoved his shoulder again, more forceful this time. He looked up at her through slits. "You're in my bed."

"Really? Hadn't noticed." His sarcasm was sharp. "Perhaps you'd like me to transfigure it into a clock? So you can give me five more minutes."

"This is serious." Hermione twisted her body towards him and the covers fell off her. That's when she noticed… "I'm naked."

"I can see that."

"I'm naked. In bed. With you."

"Five points to Gryffindor." He rubbed his tired eyes and scooted up on the bed. "And five points from Gryffindor for bothering me in my sleep."

"We… we had sex last night," she stated, image after image of a naked Malfoy on top of her, underneath her, doing such amazing things with his hands and mouth and body. Pink flushed through her cheeks.

"Twice," he mused, eyes fully open now and staring at her with a sinful smirk. "I really should take another shower. That last one was quite _dirty_." Hermione felt her mouth slack and closed it a few moments later. She glanced down at herself, embarrassed, and quickly drew the covers up and around her frame. "Getting shy on me now?"

"I… I might need some time to process this." Her hand went up to her forehead. Was she having a fever dream? No. Her head was quit cool. "I only broke up with Ronald yesterday. Oh, Ronald…" She winced at his name. "All he did was kiss another woman and I… and with you…"

The smirk from Draco's mouth fell slack, but he did not say a word. He nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry." Hermione fidgeted with the comforter. "That came out wrong."

Draco shrugged, sitting completely upright. The blanket fell loosely around his middle, leaving his bare chest out in the open. Hermione could tell he struggled to control his composure as he pulled himself out of bed and started to thread his feet into his pant legs. When he looped his belt in place, he came around to the other side of the bed and gathered up his shirt, slipping it over his head in a casual way. He found his wand, which had been discarded on the floor the previous night, and tucked it in his back pocket. "See you at work, Granger."

"Draco." Hermione's hand extended out and caught his wrist lightly. "I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't." His tone was cold. "I've an early shift." He stared down at her hand as if waiting for her to remove it. When she didn't, he plucked it off of him and stepped out of her reach. "I told you I wasn't going to be a third wheel to a Weasley."

"You aren't," Hermione muttered. "This is all… just… so soon. I just need to process my emotions. That's all."

"Right." He straightened his back with a look of superiority. "Well, don't beat yourself up about it. It was just some fun. All that sexual tension after all those years of making each other's lives Hell. Honestly, I'm surprised we didn't get it out of the way sooner."

"I…" She glared at him. "You're joking."

His face contorted to a playful grin, but it was hollow. "I'm not confessing my undying love for you. So you can just stop with the face. We had fun. Nothing to feel guilty about." He shifted towards the door, stopped, and then turned back to face her. "I'll see you at work." He nodded curtly, but there was something sincere etched in his expression. He left the room, taking with it the tension and Hermione's train of thought.

* * *

"Talk to him." Harry crossed his arms stubbornly as Hermione ordered her morning coffee from the small shop across the street from the entrance to the Ministry. "He's a wreck."

"And I'm not?" Hermione quipped, tipping the barista. She led Harry to a small table just past the shop and sat down, watching the hustle and bustle of the average muggles on their ways to wherever. "You do remember how hard it was for me to watch him snog her our sixth year? To hear that he could even go so far as to lie about seeing her again…"

"Hermione, you're not the jealous type. I know you. So whatever is going on between you and Ron has got to be more than Lavender Brown." Harry's face attempted comfort. "Talk to me."

"I…" Hermione chewed on her lip and thought. "We hadn't been intimate in quite some time, Harry. I would try, but he would always find some excuse. And he would hardly kiss me these last few weeks…"  
Harry listened, taking a sip of his own coffee in solidarity. "And when you told me he had made no intention of coming over to your house when he should have been having dinner with me... Well, I couldn't believe it. He's been distant. And maybe so have I. I'm not sure how long we would have made it if Lavender hadn't come into the picture to egg it on."

"Ron said you'd been the reserved one." Harry noted, eyeing her carefully.

"Did he use that word?"

"Not exactly. More along the lines of 'always in her work' and 'never wanting to go out'."

Hermione sighed. "After all that we've gone through, I just simply don't enjoy outings like I should. Everywhere we go in the Wizarding world, eyes are on us. Harry Potter's friends who saved the world. No offence, Harry. I'm delighted to be your friend, but when the entire world wants to scrutinize you within an inch of your sanity-"

"-I get it." Harry nodded. "Believe me. I do. –Maybe if you just talked it over with Ron…"

They both saw it at the same time; across the street, in front of the cloaked entrance to the Ministry, stood a very non-broken up Ronald Weasley next to a laughing Lavender Brown and another wizard Hermione recalled that worked in Ron's department. They all three were smiling and jostling. When Hermione watched Lavender coil her arm around Ron's, she stood up suddenly, coffee in hand, and hastily made her way across the street. When Ron saw her, he instantly paled.

"Mione, look, I-"

"No need." Hermione shot her free hand up to silence him, earning the displeased look of Lavender, who let go of Ron's arm almost immediately. "You don't need to explain a thing to me, Ronald. I know things between us have been terrible, but I wanted to let you know as of this moment I'm formally letting you off of the hook to do… whatever this is." She nudged between Lavender and Ron. "I tried to make it clear yesterday, but sending Harry over to try to convince me to see you again, and then to have the nerve to come out here, in public with…" She glared at him. "You might not have kissed her back, but it's obvious there are feelings there. And this goes far beyond even that." She jerked her gaze over to Lavender, who looked completely horrified. "I hope you can trust him. He might not let you know if he's planning on seeing someone else behind your back, so I'd watch out."

"What's she going on about?" asked the third wizard, nudging his thumb over at Hermione. "Lavender, what does she mean you kissed Weasley?"

"Darling, listen, I can explain-" Lavender shot out, but the man had already started to storm off, a slur of obscenities shouted under his breath.

"Then again," Hermione glared back over to Ron, "Perhaps you both deserve each other."

"Bloody Hell, Hermione," said Ron, exasperated. "This might have not been the only relationship you just ruined!"

"I didn't ruin it, Ronald! You did!" Hermione shouted angrily, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "I'm sorry I work all the time and don't have time to go out or enjoy an evening the way you'd like me to! I'm sorry I'm so 'dull', as you've put it time and time again. If I'm such a bore, maybe this really is the best option. Because I- I…" She lowered her voice. "I won't play a third wheel to you and Lavender."

Ron's ears turned a brilliant shade of red, and he sighed. "You're right. I've tried to pretend that I haven't seen this coming. I just hoped yesterday was all some nightmare I could wake up from. But… maybe we should figure ourselves out." Ron bent over and hugged her. "And," he whispered, "If the universe sees fit to bring us back together in the end, so be it." He pulled away from the hug, tucked a lock of hair behind Hermione's ear, and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm really sorry, Hermione."

"Me too…" Hermione felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. They stared at each other for a moment in understanding, before Ron coughed and released his hold on her.

"See you," he said and left Hermione standing alone, cradling her caramel macchiato, as he followed the trail to find Lavender and her fiancé. Hermione watched as Harry approached from the other side of the road carefully, bundling tight in his jacket as a gust of wind picked up. He eyed her reproachfully for a moment then took her in his arms and hugged her tightly.

"You alright?" he whispered in her hair.

"I… I don't think so." Hermione felt the inevitable tears fall and gripped Harry tighter. And they stayed that way for a time, until the one o'clock bell chimed and it was time to go back to work. Harry escorted Hermione to her office, gave her a peck on the cheek, and promised that they'd have dinner together real soon, just the two of them. Hermione said she would like that very much, brushed away her stubborn tears, and shoved her way through the double doors, ignoring as she nearly knocked someone over in her hurry to her desk. She took her seat, at the same time noticing Malfoy leaning in his office chair behind her, scrutinizing over some rather thick parchments.

"Granger," he beckoned her, eyes running this way and that across the page. "What do you make of this? Are they asking a request to procure magic from this particular family heirloom, or simply the spell from which its cast?"

Hermione's heart sped as she walked around Draco's desk and leaned over to read the paper, ignoring how intoxicating his cologne was. She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, which reminded her of the way Ron had not an hour before, and she bunched her face up in a pained expression. "Just the spell." She moved to leave but made the mistake of catching his eye as she stood straight.

"Have you been crying?" He perched an eyebrow.

"It… its nothing." Hermione rubbed at her swollen eyes and stifled the lump in her throat. "Honestly. I'm just going to go back to work." He didn't stop her, and before long she began to pour herself into her work, ignoring the huffy sound of Malfoy as he sighed every ten minutes or so. Eventually, Hermione caved and turned towards him. "Do you think it might be possible for you to keep it down so that the rest of us can work in peace?"

He smirked, happy to have her attention again. "I think the only thing that could convince me would be for you to tell me why you'd be crying on such a lovely Tuesday afternoon. Hope it wasn't on my account."

"It wasn't."

He frowned. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Really?" Hermione tried to pretend to shift through her paperwork as her supervisor walked by. When he was out of earshot, she whispered under her breath, "Let's just say my day has not been as pleasant as yours seems to have been."

"You think waking up next to me would be a good start."

"Ron and I had a talk." She could hear him shift in his seat. "We agreed it would be best if we didn't see each other for a while."

"So it's over, then? The golden couple?"

"It was over a long time ago. We both just didn't know it." Hermione struggled to keep the tears at bay again. "Just so we're clear, what you and I did… It doesn't mean I'm going to jump into that again. Not any time in the near future. We hardly know each other, and I am not one to have one night shags." She thought of Ron, of all the pain and torment in her gut as she realized that it was really, one hundred percent over. Guilt threatened to rack her body as she thought of Draco and what they had done. Guilt, not because of what they had done, but of how guiltless she had felt afterwards. "So maybe we should just go back to being coworkers for a little while until I can –I don't know- figure all of this out."

She thought she could feel his eyes, like literal daggers, in her back. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say, Granger."

* * *

Two weeks went by like that, with Ron avoiding her every chance he got, as well as Malfoy, until soon Hermione fell into a depressed stupor. The guilt that she hadn't felt before had reared its ugly head only days after her confrontation with Ron. She looked at herself in the mirror just this morning, wondering how she could hold Ron's attraction to Lavender over his head when she had slept with Malfoy.

That night, she decided she couldn't stay inside anymore and went around to the local pub- not the one Draco and her first drank together- in hopes of getting a few shots in her to release the uneasy feeling her bones. She knew that it would be cheaper to go to a liquor store, but Hermione didn't want to be alone. Not tonight, and Harry had already made plans with Ron. She needed the escape.

The pub, just a local muggle one that enjoyed watching soccer on the teli, bustled with energy as Hermione found an abandoned table in the back. She just got done shrugging off her jacket when a waitress came by and took her order: two beers and a vodka, no chaser. Hermione planned on being pleasantly sloshed before she made it home.

God, what had she become? When her drinks arrived, she ordered some chips to counter the alcohol and watched lazily at an infomercial about athlete's foot. She was one and a half beers and her vodka in when someone came up through the crowd and met her gaze. "Oh no." She shook her finger. "Not you. You're not supposed to be here."

"Where am I supposed to be?" Draco asked, shrugging off his peacoat to reveal a dark burgundy shirt and tweed pants. He sat his coat on the back of the vacant chair across from Hermione and, with a resounding plop, made his claim to the spot. Hermione looked dully at him, sipping her beer.

"Anywhere else," she grumbled. She stuffed a few chips into her mouth and chewed. Her head swam with the rush of alcohol's kiss. Draco eyed her empty mugs, her face full of greasy food, and whistled.

"When you go downhill, you like to take the entire slope with you." He snatched up one of her chips and chewed thoughtfully.

"Go away," Hermione groaned.

"Why?"

"Because the last two times I had alcohol in my system around you, I did things."

"Me," he corrected. "You did me."

Her eyes widened and she struggled to swallow her food. When she did, she gave him a look of contempt. Then her face softened. "Why are you here, Malfoy? It's not like you to come into a muggle establishment."

"You don't know what I'm like to make that assumption. –But you are correct. I didn't come in here to watch their picture screens. You've looked like Hell at work. And how many people do you think are buying that you have the flu? They all can tell you and Weasley are over. I'm surprised it's not on the front of Witch Weekly."

"Cheeky." Hermione stuck out her tongue. "So why are you stalking me in a pub? Aren't you afraid of becoming the front page for being out with Hermione Granger?"

Draco scoffed. "I hardly think that would be any juicy gossip. Now, if I were out and about with Golden boy himself, that's another story." He wagged his finger in front of her. "You and I are drinking buddies, Granger. And I'm here tonight to tell you you've had a bit too much." He moved her nearly empty mug across the table towards him and took a sip. "Yuck. What is this?"

"Beer," she replied. Draco made a scrunched up face and shook his head.

"Nope, don't like that stuff. Nothing like butterbeer." He tapped his fingers on the table, unable to keep still. "Let's pay for your shite and get you in bed."

"You," Hermione rebutted, waved an accusing finger in his face, lips tingly and head blurry, "You don't get to tell me what to do. What gives you the right?"

"Drinking buddies." He smirked. "I'd pay, but I doubt they take wizard currency. So come on, Granger, shovel it out." He reached over and searched through the pockets of her jacket, found her wallet, and pulled out fifty pounds.

"That's way too much!" she protested, but he scooted her out of the chair and onto her feet, mumbling, "For putting up with your arse, it should be plenty." He wrapped her coat around her shoulders, retrieved his own, and ushered her out the door. When the cold air hit Hermione's face, she cringed and bit down on her lip. "Prat."

"You're so articulate when you're sloshed."

He grabbed her around the middle, not in a sexual way but rather annoyed, and apparated them there on the spot. The next thing Hermione saw were the steps to her front door. Draco removed his hand once they settled, and dragged her by the arm up to her front door, where he fished her keys from her pockets and asked her, "Which one?"

Hermione glared at him.

"Which one, Granger?"

She didn't say, only continued to stare until she reached up and pushed him in the chest.

"You…" she seethed. "You're the reason Ron and I are over! I should punch you square in the face like I did back at Hogwarts!" She grabbed at his coat, fighting back the tears. "We were happy once, you know! Ron and I… And… And then I saw you and that pub and I…" Her fingers relaxed. "Then I…" Her eyelashes fluttered as the beat back hot tears. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. I was wrong. You're not the reason." Her breath caught and she choked back a sob. "I just don't know what got into me when you and I…" She leaned her head on his chest and sniffled. "I didn't know I could see you that way." She knew she was ruining his coat, but continued to cry. "And the way you looked at me… it was the way I wished Ron had looked at me all our lives…"

She sobbed gently into his chest, letting the tears fall and the alcohol warm over her bones. Malfoy simply stood there, mouth slightly agape, keys still in hand. He was, of course, unsure of how to console a crying Granger, so he settled on patting her awkwardly on the back.

"There, there…" he said flatly, clearing his throat. "Erm, you'll be okay. Stiff upper lip and all that."

Hermione gathered her thoughts, feeling a little less buzzed, and peeled herself off of him as she wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve. "Sorry…"

"S'alright." He smirked. "Be glad I got you out of that pub or you'd be crying into fish and chips right about now."

Hermione managed a small laugh and pointed to the bigger, silver key on her key ring. "That one."

Draco nodded and immediately went to work on the key lock. He opened the door, looked at her, and said politely, "I'd walk you in, but that might be a bit informal of a coworker."

Hermione flinched at the words. "Draco, when I said that-"

"No need in an excuse." He waved his hand to dismiss her. "Really, I don't need one."

"But I do. I need to get this off of my chest before the alcohol wears off." She looked to the still open door and then back to him. "What we did… I don't normally do that."

"What? Shag some prick from your class year that you can barely stand to talk to?"

"Shut it. Let me talk." She crossed her arms. Draco gave her an amused, curious look and nodded for her to continue. "I don't have one night stands, Draco Malfoy. And most certainly with pricks from my class year that I can barely stand to talk to." The corners of her lips pulled upwards. Then a thought formed in her head, solidified, and stayed there. She straightened her back, uncrossed her arms and said quietly, "Which is why you're going to take me to dinner."

Draco's face blanched. "I am?"

"Yes." She nodded, determined. "I'm not a fling. And you told me that night that I shouldn't feel guilty. That you wanted to take the guilt, but that's not entirely the case. What we did… I wanted it just as much as you did..." Her words trailed off, contemplating.

"Who says I want to take you to dinner?" Draco jeered. Hermione shot up eyes like daggers, and he instantly back tracked, saying, "On second thought, dinner sounds agreeable." He rubbed a speck of invisible dirt off his jacket and continued. "Next Friday. I pick the restaurant. I don't trust you to pick an acceptable location."

Hermione shrugged off his attempt at reprimanding her and smiled. "Next Friday sounds fantastic. After work?"

"Yeah, sure." He chewed on the dry skin of his lip in thought. He reached over, took the keys out of her door, and handed them to her. "Well, then… erm, goodnight, Granger." He tilted his head forward, bowed slightly as Malfoy's did when attempting to be cordial, and awkwardly backed down her steps and turned away into the night. After a moment, Hermione heard the crack of his disapparation and stepped inside her house, hiding a subtle smile on her face.

* * *

The rest of the week went by at a snail's pace. Hermione attempted to keep the relationship between her and Draco cordial and professional, as to not sully the awkward atmosphere between them further. Draco went along with the charade, though he did let her first name slip through his lips from time to time. Hermione hadn't spoken to Ron at all since they had fought in front of the coffee shop, and by the third week in had even gone so far as to taking the Floo to work to avoid seeing him at the usual entrance they both took.

By the following Friday, she had started having lunches with Harry and only Harry. Today she watched him as he took a drag off of a bummed cigarette outside of their favorite deli.

"Those things are terrible for you," Hermione chided.

"They take the stress off everything," replied Harry. He finished his cancer stick, threw it to the ground, and stared up at the sky above them. "With Ron staying over so much lately I can hardly get some time to myself."

"How is he?" She put her hands in her pockets and followed his gaze.

"Honestly, he's been a prick lately. Sits on my couch all night playing my video games, cursing so loud I can hardly sleep. Don't get me wrong. Ron's my best friend. But without you to level him out he can turn into a right git."

"It's a good thing we're not having dinner this weekend, then." Hermione laughed quietly. "You don't sound like you'd make good company."

"Ginny's gone on tournament leave. I love hearing it when her team wins, but it gets lonely. And then Ron just makes it lonelier." He ruffled her hair and smiled. "Going back to work?"

"I took a half day. I'm going to go home and soak in a hot bath before…" Before, she thought idly, she had her date with Draco. Assuming he still wanted to. Assuming she did. And didn't she? She refused to answer her own question.

"Before… what?"

She glanced away. "Oh, you know. Before I wrap myself up in a good book and fall asleep."

She took her leave then, giving Harry a sideways hug to avoid his cigarette infused smell, and apparated back to her house, where she kicked off her shoes once entering and gave a heavy sigh. She ran herself a bath, picked out a lengthy book, and settled in to the hot water just in time to hear three light raps at her door. "Oh, for goodness sake." Hermione grabbed up a long towel hanging near the tub, wrapped it around herself, and padded to the front door. "Just a moment!" She called, making sure to secure the towel snugly before she peeled the door open, making only her head visible. "Can I help… you." Suddenly very conscious she was in nothing but a towel, she eeked out, "What are you doing here?"

"You keep asking me this. Don't you get tired of it?" Draco Malfoy leaned up against the doorframe, still in his work robes. "You going to let me in? I'm sure the muggle community outside are just so eager to know why I'm wearing-"

"Oh, get in here!" Hermione reached out and yanked him in, shutting the door quickly. Draco gave her a once over in her towel and smirked.

"You didn't have to dress up for me."

Hermione gripped the top of her towel. "You're supposed to be at work."

"So are you."

"I took a half day."

"Trying to weasel out of our plans already?"

"No, I was just getting ready for them. By bathing. Until I was interrupted."

Draco grinned. "Well, don't stop on my account."

"Oh!" Hermione rolled her eyes and shoved him down onto the couch. "Stay here. Honestly…" she grumbled as she made her way into the bathroom, shut the door, and turned the lock forcefully. She added an extra locking spell just to be safe, pulled off her towel, and ran herself a shower instead. Thirty minutes later she was out of the shower and done drying her hair. She had attempted to stay the curls, but they won over in the end anyways. All she could do was keep it from frizzing. She nuzzled the towel back around herself, tip toed across the hall into her bedroom, and grumbled as she attempted to find something to wear. "Why are you here?" She shouted out her door at him.

"Hmm?" Draco called back to her.

"Shouldn't you be working?"

"Didn't feel like it. Wanted to make sure you didn't drink yourself into a stupor."

Hermione pulled a red, long sleeved sweater over her head and settled on a pair of black slacks. She walked into the living room just in time to see Draco raise a disapproving eyebrow.

"Tell me you're not wearing that."

"What's wrong with my outfit?"

"Am I going out to dinner with a woman or an elderly gentleman? I can't tell."

"Oh, as if you have something so much better," Hermione huffed and placed her hands on her hips. Draco rose from his seat on the sofa and unclasped his robes to reveal a nice, long sleeve silk shirt the color of emeralds and a decent pair of slacks. "That… that's actually quite nice."

"So, go put on something equally as nice," he chided, swinging both hands towards her bedroom. Hermione groaned and begrudgingly did as she was told, stepping out next in a grey pleated pencil skirt and a white ruffle blouse. Draco nodded and clapped mockingly. "She does have taste!"

"Just because I don't parade myself like a common hooker doesn't mean I can't dress nicely when the occasion calls for it. –You should have been working."

"But then when would I have the time to mock your attire and force you to wear this stunning thing?" he teased. "Unless you'd rather just skip straight to the part where I take it off of you."

"Stop." Hermione put a hand up to his face and said, "That's not going to happen. Tonight is about you taking me out for a respectable evening. Are we clear?"

"Define respectable…"

"Talking. Dinner. No drinking. Maybe a movie or – you don't know what a movie is," She hesitated.

"Don't degrade me. I've learned a thing or two living on my own. I know what the moving pictures muggles like are called." He extended an arm out for her to take. "Shall we?"

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Nosey, aren't we? Wait and see."

They apparated out of the house and arrived in front of a pizza shop on the north side of town. Hermione's mouth went slack as she read the sign. "Pizza?"

"Yeah." He smirked. "I rather like pizza, now that I know what it is. And I figured there wouldn't be too many witches or wizards hanging out to gossip." He opened the door for her and they made their way in, where they took a booth and Hermione giggled as she read the menu.

"Draco Malfoy likes pizza… am I dreaming?"

"Would I normally be in your dreams?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Do tell."

Hermione tried not to giggle again as the waitress came around and took their order. They ordered a large half olives and bacon (Draco's side) and half pepperoni with extra cheese (Hermione's) and two sodas. Hermione leaned her head against her hand and smiled.

"Thank you."

"For?"

"For actually going through with this. I know I bullied you into it."

"Pah," he scoffed, "I doubt you would be able to bully me into anything." He played with the silverware on the table, spinning it this way and that. "So, does this work for you?"

"What? The pizza?" Hermione asked. He nodded. "Yes. I wouldn't have taken you for a low-key date kind of man, but… this is wonderful." She leaned back in her seat and her smile grew bigger. "So, tell me about yourself."

"What would you like to know?"

"Favorite color?" She tilted her head.

"Blue." He flitted his eyes down towards the table. "You?"

"I like orange," she admitted, "But I can't pull the color off."

He smirked. "Favorite position?"

"I don't take a stance in politics," She chided, glazing over his suggestive question and earning a glare from him. "Do you have a favorite book?"

"I do. Stranger Things by Arthur Red. Have you read it?"

"No." She leaned over the table, interested. "Tell me about it."

"Bunch of wizards go out in the middle of the woods and get sucked into a vortex where they meet their doppelgangers. Magnificent read, if you enjoy fiction."

"I do."

"And your favorite book?"

"It's a muggle one." Hermione giggled. "Called The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. Interestingly enough, its story is about siblings who find a hidden world in a wardrobe filled with magic. Before I knew what I was, I used to dream of such a place. Now that I know it exists… the book is a lot more horrifying."

"Sounds like it. What would a lion, a witch and a wardrobe have to do with each other?" He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. They both laughed, louder than they intended and caught the gaze of a few of the guests. Hermione dabbed the back of her hand to her mouth and tried to stifle the last of her chuckles. Draco watched her, observing her, until she was self-conscious.

"Why do you look at me that way?"

"What way?"

"Like I'm…. not some grotesque individual you've hated your entire life."

"Would you rather I treat you that way?" he asked her seriously.

"No. No, not at all. This is just… new to me."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, if anyone had asked me if I'd be sitting across Hermione Granger in a pizza diner on a date back at Hogwarts, I would have snorted pumpkin juice all over them while laughing hysterically."

"And now?" she asked cautiously.

Draco mulled it over in his head a moment, nodded nonchalantly, and smirked. "Now, I'd say it could be the highlight of my week. Of course, that isn't saying much about my life, is it?"

The pizza arrived, interrupting the awkward going conversation, and they dug in without much else to say about it. They ate in content silence, once in a while bringing up how good the pizza was or what things they missed about Hogwarts versus the adult lives they led now. When Draco had finished his fourth slice, and Hermione her third, Draco ordered the check and tossed a wallet over to Hermione. "I had Gringotts convert some muggle money for me, but I still don't understand the currency."

"Alright," Hermione sifted through the wallet. "How much do you want to tip—Malfoy!" She gasped. "There's an obscene amount of money in here.

"No matter where I go, I carry an obscene amount of money."

She frowned. "You said your parents cut you off."

"I said I left. And they did cut me off afterward, thank you very much," Draco snatched up the wallet as Hermione hurriedly pulled out a thick amount and started to deal it up to the ticket. "I just happen to have liquidated some assets that I had on my person when I left."

"Such as?"

"Such as some diamond cufflinks, gold plated belt buckle-"

"Diamond flecked shoelaces?" Hermione teased. Draco chuckled.

"Something like that."

"So you're sitting on a bit of money, just… what? Waiting for a rainy day?"

"Emergencies."

"And taking me on a date? That was an emergency?"

"Hardly. But as I've said, I'm not current on muggle money, and the last time I ate here I had a waitress cry into my shirt because I had tipped her – what was it you called it? An obscene amount of money?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and placed the appropriate amount on the table, handing the rest back to him. "You're still leaving a good tip. Not enough to buy her a house. Maybe a nice meal." She waited until he had put the wallet back in his pocket before she reached over and took his hand. "Thank you."

He glanced down at her hand, back up at her, a bit of pink tinging his pale face. "For what?"

"For all of this."

"It's just pizza, Granger, I hardly think that constitutes-"

Hermione leaned across the table and planted a kiss firmly on his lips. His face softened as she pulled away, and his cheeks were no longer pink, but a pretty shade of red. He looked vulnerable, in that moment, but he seemed to remember something, and his face toughened once more. "We should get you home."

"Oh." She slunk down in her seat, nodded in agreement, and skirted out of the booth. Draco led the way outside, and as they stood in front of the flashing yellow pizza sign in the window of the restaurant, he reached over slowly and took her hand.

"Care if we walk?" he asked.

She shook her head, and they strolled down the sidewalk, Hermione unable to keep her eyes from flitting to his hands every few moments or so. Eventually, she caught him looking towards it too, face etched with pain and carefulness. After a time, Hermione tugged at his hand and asked, "What's wrong with you?"

"Hmm?" he asked indifferently.

"You seduce me, then tell me it's nothing. You're happy to see me one moment, and the next you're ignoring me. You ask me on a date and appear to have an excellent time, but then there are moments when you look like you're wrestling a bear instead of enjoying yourself."

Draco smirked. "Pot," he nudged to Hermione, "Meet kettle." And he pointed at himself.

She hadn't thought of it that way, as if she were giving off mixed signals, but as she looked back at her past interactions, she could see the wires that crossed this way and that, but never leading to anything. She sighed and plucked her hand from his. "So, what is this then? Is this just some pity date?"

Draco stared at her, his blue-silver eyes dancing against the light of the streetlamp above them. "You tell me. This was your idea, after all."

"I…" She tugged her eyes down and stared at her Mary-Janes. "No, this wasn't a pity date."

He tucked his finger under her chin and lifted it to meet his gaze. "It wasn't a pity date for me either, stupid little Gryffindor."

Sighing, she asked, "Why do you say such mean things? You could have just said 'me either' but you just can't stop yourself can you?"

"You really don't know?" His finger slid up to her lips, where it brushed across the supple skin there. "You are quite daft."

"Know what?"

"I tease you because I like you," he whispered, eyes never leaving hers. "Because if I don't constantly have something mean to say, I might just…" He closed his eyes and kissed her then, something soft and gentle and kind. Hermione leaned into the kiss as a whirlwind of confused questions swam around her head. He broke the kiss after a time, smirked, and said, "Are you sure this a no sex date?"

Hermione contorted her face into one of pretend annoyance. "Yes, Draco, I'm sure."

He shrugged, smiling. "Guess I have no choice but to take you on a second date, do I?"

She tried not to giggle as she shoved his shoulder playfully. "A second date sounds rather nice."


	4. Congratulations

**I comb the crowd and pick you out**  
**My mouth moves too fast for you to figure it out**  
**It starts eyes closed to fingers crossed**  
**To I swear, I say, to I swear, I say**

 **To hands between legs, to whatever it takes**  
**To drinks at the club, to the bar**  
**To the keys to your car**  
**To hotel** stares **, to the emergency exit door**

 **To the love, I left my conscience**  
**Pressed between the pages of a**  
**Bible in the drawer**  
**"What did it ever do for me?" I say**

 **It never calls me when I'm down**  
**Love never wanted me, but I took it anyway**

**"XO" by Fall Out Boy**

* * *

Hermione fiddled with the top of her ball gown as she tried to cover up her pressing cleavage. "Draco, do you think this dress is too showy? I don't want to embarrass myself."

Draco, who had been the bathroom fiddling with his bowtie, emerged in a set of black dress robes and took in the sight of her in her blue corset dress with little accents of golden sequence along the edges. He clicked his tongue, stalking around her as a tailor would, and shook his head. "No good. I'm afraid that will have to come off at once." He smirked and immediately scooped her up over his shoulder.

"Draco!" she laughed. "Put me down this instant!"

"Alright." He turned and tossed her onto the bed, disheveling her braided hair slightly, and climbed on top of her. "You're down. Now what?"

"You were supposed to tell me I looked beautiful in the dress and not to worry." She pouted her lips.

"Dress is beautiful. Not to worry." He grinned, running the length of her corset with his hands until he made his way down to the tool skirting.

"Be honest." She pushed him off of her and sat up. "How silly do I look?"

Draco, seated next to her on the bed, straightened up his dress robes as he said, "As silly as any of us do dressing up to go to a ridiculous Ministry function." He glanced over at her, saw her flush cheeks, and sighed. "Come here." He stood and pulled her up to her feet then dragged her to the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom. He stood behind her, hands on her shoulders and met her eyes in the mirror. "Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?" Hermione nodded dully. He pressed his lips to her cheek, to her ear, to her neck. "I see a bloody brilliant woman in a stunning dress who will surely make any other woman in her presence jealous." His lips brushed in the crook of her neck, just where it met the shoulder. "And the only way you could look even more gorgeous would be to take the dress off."

Hermione smiled, suddenly feeling very powerful in the dress. "Really?"

He spun her around and wriggled a suggestive eyebrow. "Really. Is that what you wanted to hear?" She nodded. "Good, because I don't know how much more of that sap I could dish out." He chuckled, and Hermione stuck out her tongue. "Careful. I might put that tongue to good use if you do that again."

"And he's back." She rolled her eyes and played with the tulle at the bottom of her dress. "I feel like a girl about to go to prom."

"Prom?"

"A muggle tradition. For people in high school." She twirled around in the dress, feeling a bit more comfortable in it.

"Do they honor know it all's for getting two laws passed in a six month time period?" Draco teased, watching her spin.

"No. They honor a king and queen of the prom for being beautiful and with heads full of sawdust. –You would have made an excellent prom king."

"Ha ha." He grabbed her by the hips and stopped her spinning. "Kiss me." He dipped his head down and pressed his lips to hers. Hermione could still taste the bit of mint from his toothpaste as he trailed his tongue over her bottom lip. She opened her mouth, letting him freely explore her own, but at this point, there wasn't much he didn't know. Hermione sighed into the kiss, completely relaxed, and wrapped a gloved hand around his neck. Her other hand went to his cheek and stroked it gently as she pulled away.

"What have you done to me?" she whispered.

He smirked, turning his face into her hand and kissing her palm. "Just about every un-Godly thing there is to do to a woman." He gave her a wink that made her roll her eyes again and then added, "I'm so very glad you're not an impish prude."

"Eloquent, as always… We're going to be late." Hermione leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

"Oi." He rubbed at his cheek with an annoyed look. "Don't get lipstick on me, Granger. Don't want the single ladies to get the wrong impression."

"You're right. After all, it isn't like the last six months meant anything. You really should stop bringing me books, then. And kissing me. And other things." She laughed a little and rubbed away her lipstick print with her thumb. "Do me a favor and stop calling me Granger? We've been official for some time now. I think the least you can do is call me by my proper name."

"Does it annoy you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then I'm going to continue to do it." He smirked at the irritated look on her brow and played with a fallen lock of her hair. Hermione watched him, the way his ice blue eyes danced over her skin, the way he carried that air of superiority. In school, she thought he was arrogant. Now, she knew it meant he was hiding his true feelings. He wore the same look on his face after she had suggested that they put a label on what they were. She suspected then that he had been bothered by the idea, but later she found that he had simply been concerned about her intentions. Draco was quite fragile under all of that snobbery and pride. It simply came down to know when to push and when to let it go. Tonight, she pushed.

"What's wrong?" she whispered. He shrugged, but she didn't relent. "Draco. Are you worried about Ronald being there?"

Scoffing, he jutted out his chin and said, "I could care less if Weasley shows his ugly mug. Let him see us together. It wouldn't be the first time."

"Then what…?" Hermione trailed off and then realized. "Is this about the Minister inviting your family?"

"They have a lot of money, and the Minister needs to invite his investors to the Ministry functions. It's just been a while since I've seen them is all." He stared off at nothing in particular, his eyes flickering with nervousness. "And I'm not ashamed of you." His eyes found hers, insisting. "I'm not. I just don't know how I'm going to feel when I see them again."

"I'm sure you'll be fine." Hermione played with his collar a little, folding the pressed lines of it as she spoke. "They're your family, and they love you. Your mother made some indigent choices, yes. But if she hadn't have made those… well, we probably wouldn't be standing here today, would we?" Her voice cracked a little. "I'm rather glad everything happened the way it did."

"Are you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't you?"

He gave an impatient shrug. "I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"Yes. I suppose if my mother hadn't betrayed me I might not have had the best shag of my life."

"Draco!" Hermione smacked his chest, but laughed all the same. He smiled warmly, still twirling a bit of her hair between her fingers as he murmured, "Oh, come on. You know I love you." Her heart caught. She stared up at his calm eyes that rested gently on her warm ones, and her stomach did a flip. Surely he didn't say…? But he had, hadn't he? Her mouth agape, she watched him tuck her hair behind her ear and kissed her on the forehead. "Ready to go?"

Hermione nodded shyly and grabbed up her wand off of the nightstand, hooking it on a loop designed to hold it on her gown. There was a knock at the front door, and she inwardly scolded herself for not saying something back to him. Flustered, she made her way through the living room, taking her time as to not trip over her dress, and opened the front door. "Ginny… " She grinned from ear to ear and hugged her friend tightly. "When did you get back in town?"

"Did you think I'd miss this?" Ginny grinned into Hermione's shoulder. "You've been working on House Elf rights for as long as I've known you. What you've accomplished is nothing short of amazing. The Harpies can do without me for one night."

Hermione saw Harry approach the front steps, dressed in rather nice dress robes that looked taken down a peg when matched with his unruly black hair. He waved at Hermione and met up with them in the doorway. "How are you feeling, Hermione?"

"A bit nervous, but… all around, wonderful."

She invited them both in and caught Draco in the kitchen pouring shots of fire whiskey into shot glasses. He raised a superior eyebrow at the sight of Harry and Ginny and smirked comfortably. "Oh good. The peanut gallery has arrived."

"Malfoy." Harry gave a curt nod and eyed the drinks. "Those for us?"

"Either that or I've become quite the alcoholic."

Everyone took a spot around the kitchen island and grabbed up a glass.

"To Hermione," said Ginny, hoisting up her liquor, "The most brilliant witch we know." They all slammed back their shot and coughed as the alcohol burned their throats. Draco sat his shot glass down in front of him and kissed Hermione's cheek. Ginny's faced scrunched up, and everyone noticed. Hastily, she fumbled out, "Sorry. I'm still not used to-" She waved her hand between Draco and Hermione, "This."

"You're not the only one," muttered Harry. "Seeing you two kiss is something I never thought I'd ever see growing up. Can't blame us for still being shell shocked."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere," Draco chided, slipping a hand around Hermione's waist. "So you'll just have to get used to seeing this devilishly handsome face."

"Devilishly handsome?" laughed Ginny. "Compared to what? A pasty white turnip?"

"You've basically described your entire family," sneered Draco.

"Alright!" Hermione threw her hands up in mediation. "This night is supposed to be about me, isn't it? So for my sake, can you both not?"

"We're just having a bit of fun," Draco cooed in her ear, snaking his arm even firmer around her. "Aren't we, Weasley?"

"Sure." Ginny nodded. "Fun…"

Harry put a hand on the back of Ginny's dress and rubbed soothingly. "Ignore him. It's what I do."

The four of them took another round of shots to ease their nerves and set off to the banquet in Hermione's honor, which was held in the grand entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic. Tables had been set up in a uniformed fashion, stacked with beautiful lilies as a centerpiece in tall, crystal vases. Tiny twinkling tea candles floated near the ceiling, giving the hall a pale glow that made Hermione's sequent dress sparkle. She shook with nervousness until Draco put a gentle hand on her back.

"Breathe, Granger," he reminded her, and she released her held breath. He then extended his arm out for her to hold, giving her a reassuring smile. "Deep breaths now."

She reached up, took his arm, and concentrated on her breathing as he led her across the hall, past the wandering eyes that caught sight of them. Hermione blushed. Everyone in their department figured out that she and Draco were together long ago, but she was sure, to the rest of the Ministry, it might come as a bit of a shock. Sure enough, there were a few who whispered as they passed. Some sounded shocked. Others appalled. Draco rubbed her hand gently and sat her down at their assigned table. Harry and Ginny took their seat with them (Hermione made sure to have Harry and his plus one reserved with her).

"Honestly," Ginny scoffed, "Ignore them, Hermione."

"I am," said Hermione quietly. She chewed on her bottom lip and stared over to Draco, who seemed to be focusing on something on the other side of the hall. Glancing sideways, Hermione's eyes caught what he was staring at and patted his arm. "I think it's your turn to breathe. Go talk to them."

"I haven't talked to my parents in over a year." Draco shook his head. "I'm not about to start now."

Hermione was just about to say something when a flash of red hair captured her attention. Seated at the table to the side of them was Ron, dressed in oversized dress robes and looking very rigid as he caught Hermione staring. She jerked her head down as Ginny hollered, "Ron! Hey!" And shook her hands wildly.

"Ginny…" Harry warned, but Ginny ignored him and waved Ron over. Reluctantly, Ron stood from his seat and excused himself, then walked over to where the four sat. Draco's eyes were still focused on his parents across the room, leaving Hermione to fend for herself. Harry and Ron patted each other on the back and smiled.

"Gin." Ron leaned over and gave his sister a kiss on the cheek. "You look nice."

"I do, don't I?" Ginny smiled, glancing down at her shimmering black dress with a plunging neckline. "Mum would hate it."

"Good thing she isn't here," said Ron. "You look nice too, Hermione."

"T-Thank you…"

"-Hey Gin, I've got to get back to my seat, but save me a dance afterwards?"

"Sure." She grinned, and Ron left them to it. Ginny gave a satisfied sigh and propped her head up on one arm. "See? That wasn't so bad."

"It was terrible," piped up Draco, pulling his attention back to the table. "And you know it." He draped an arm lazily around Hermione's shoulders. "If you plan on putting us through that again, a little bit of warning beforehand would be oh so appreciated."

"She needs to talk to him," Ginny said, and then looked at Harry. "She does, doesn't she?"

"Ginny, you haven't been here to see the aftermath. That's the most they've stood to look at each other since, well… you know." He nudged to Malfoy. "Ron didn't take _that_ news too well."

"Sure, just act like I'm not here. I'll do the same for you.- Hermione, you ever notice how Potter's hair resembles a midnight colored pigmey puff?"

"Draco." Hermione chastised and was relieved to see the Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, stroll up to the podium and press a wand to his throat. One amplified charm later, he smiled and started.

"Welcome. I am very pleased to see everyone here this evening. Its times like these where I am so glad we can see such an amazing turnout from all walks of life and magical knowledge…" His speech went on for some time, naming off the accomplishments the Ministry was able to conduct thanks to Hermione's constant efforts to help House Elf Liberation. He explained, in great detail, how, with Hermione's help, liberated house elves could join habilitation programs where they would be encouraged to take on jobs, learn about money spending, and to purchase their own homes. Also, that thanks to Hermione, house elves could find low-income housing specifically to help them as they worked on building up credit at Gringotts, which would now allow house elves to have their own accounts. With a last boastful breath, he introduced Hermione up to the podium and stepped aside.

Hermione wrung her hands together, looking around the room at expecting faces, it wasn't until she found Draco's that she was able to relax. "Thank you. I started the S.P.E.W. when I was at Hogwarts, and I'm so happy to announce that after tonight, I can finally sleep easy knowing that house elves are finally getting the justice they deserve." Kingsley presented her with a beautiful crystal trophy carved in the shape of a wand. Hermione smiled, blew the audience a kiss, and took her leave off of the stage and back to her seat. Harry gave her two thumbs up as she sat down, and Draco kissed her cheek. She felt like the room would go topsy-turvy at any moment if given the chance. After a tremendous applause, the Minister stepped back to the podium.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. On behalf of the Ministry, it is an honor to have seen you grow up into such an elegant young woman. –Now," He addressed the crowd, "It is my great pleasure to announce that the entire meal provided tonight was catered by working wizards and -paid- house elves. Dig in!"

Before their eyes appeared a beautiful meal of roasted pheasant, diced and seasoned potatoes, and a medley of vegetables in an intriguing display. Their wine glasses magically filled with fine burgundy at the same time.

"Now we're talking," Draco reached out, picked up two wine glasses, and handed one to Hermione. "Brings back memories, doesn't it, drinking buddy?" He gave her a wink. She knew her cheeks had turned a bright pink because Harry gave out a huff and rolled his eyes.

"I'm never going to get used to you flirting with my best friend."

After everyone had finished their meals and the plates magically disappeared, the band started up, bringing with them the sounds of soft ballroom music. Kingsley and his wife started the dancing trend, and soon couples from all over were flocking to the middle of the hall. Draco asked Hermione if she'd like to dance too, but she caught sight of Ron, his arms wrapped around Lavender Brown's round hips, and shook her head.

"Talk to him," Ginny encouraged as Harry took her hand and led her to the middle of the floor to attempt a waltz.

Draco sat in silence for a moment before he said, "The Weasley brat is right you know. You should talk to him."

"What would I have to say?" Hermione stared down at her lap, embarrassed. She watched Draco scoop up her hand and kiss the back of it. Then he kissed her wrist, her arm, her shoulder, and finally her cheek. "Draco, people will see."

"Let them." He shrugged. "And to answer your question, just say what's on your mind." He stood up and scooted her out of her chair. With a light shove, he pressed her towards Ron and his date and gave her a wink. "Go on; I'll be right over here. And if Weasley gets fresh with you I'll make sure he's vomiting slugs for a week."

"Ha ha." She rolled her eyes and turned towards Ron. She gulped, hiked up a bit of her dress, and strolled confidently up to Ron, who was dipping Lavender in a playful way. As he brought her back up, they both noticed Hermione and stopped dancing. "Hello." Hermione attempted her best smile and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Lavender, would you mind terribly if I had a moment alone with Ronald?"

Lavender's eyes widened, but Ron rubbed her shoulder and said, "It's fine, Lav. We won't be long." Mouth falling open, Lavender stalked away muttering under her breath. "She'll be fine." Ron reassured Hermione. "She's touchy."

"I see that your relationship is blossoming," Hermione said and glanced back behind her to Draco, who held up his wine glass to her. She turned back around and brushed the top of her skirting.

"You want to dance?" Ron asked. She looked up at his deep blue eyes, so familiar and kind, and smiled a genuine smile.

"I think that would be lovely." She put a hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand, and they waltzed slowly along the dance floor, aware of each other's bodies and making sure to keep the appropriate amount of space between them. When Hermione felt comfortable in their movements, she looked up at him and said, "So, Lavender's engagement didn't pan out, I take it?"

"Not after you dropped that out in the open in front of her fiancé," replied Ron, chuckling. "I guess I should thank you for that."

"I… I was a bit angry that day. And I never formally apologized…" She lowered her eyes, but Ron tucked his hand under her chin and raised her head back up.

"No, Hermione. I'm sorry." He placed his hand back in hers and continued to lead them in their waltz. "I didn't treat you very nicely for a long time. I've always been in love with you, and I think I just took that for granted." He watched her smile wearily. "Don't worry, Mione. I'm not trying to woo you back. I don't think it would work at this point." His eyes trailed over to Draco and then back to her. "Can I ask you a serious question?"

"Of course."

"Why him?" Ron's eyebrows knitted together. "I get it, that you've moved on. But with Malfoy? What's that snobby, two-timing git-"

"That's my boyfriend you're talking about," Hermione said coolly, "And he has an excellent talent of reading lips."

"Oh, good." He looked up and mouthed, 'Piss off.'

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, but he spun her around, and she laughed, forgetting all about it. After a few minutes had gone by, she leaned her head on Ron's chest and said, "I can't explain why I like him so much. He's still as arrogant as he was back at Hogwarts, but he's… kinder, somehow."

"He breaks your heart, and I'll break his sodding head off," Ron grumbled. They both stopped dancing, glanced at each other, and laughed. "Well," He chuckled, "It's true."

"I miss you, Ronald." Hermione stated, and she meant it. "You've always been one of my best friends. It's been hard not to tell you about my day or to confide in you in, what? Seven months?"

"If your day has been anything to do with Malfoy, it might be better if I didn't know," chided Ron. "I feel the same, though, Hermione. Maybe… maybe we could start going to lunch again? You, me, and Harry?"

Hermione's heart swelled. "I would like that."

"Good. –I think Lavender is having a heart attack over at our table. Will you excuse me?"

She gave a gentle nod as Ron kissed her on the forehead and made his way back to Lavender, who gripped her wine stem so tight Hermione swore she could see it cracking. Draco made his way across the room and placed a hand on her hip. "Care to dance?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Hermione said playfully, "But I already have a date, and he'd be quite mad if I-" She gasped as he pulled her dangerously close to him, nose to nose, "-danced with someone else…"

"He sounds like a real wanker," Draco whispered.

"He really is." Hermione giggled. She laced her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Thank you."

"For?"

"Ron."

Draco rolled his eyes and led her in a dance. "I only said something because you looked like a kicked wet dog."

"Charming."

They danced for three more songs before they spoke again, Hermione starting it off as she pulled away and whispered, "Your turn." Draco looked quizzical as she took his hand and dragged him across the dance floor towards two very disgruntled looking guests in the back corner.

"Wha-what- No, Hermione, I don't want to-" Draco griped but stopped when he stood face to face with his parents.

"Hello," Hermione started politely. "Mr. Malfoy. Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you so much for coming this evening." If Lucius's distasteful sneer was anything to go off of, Hermione knew she had her work cut out for her. "Draco and I wanted to come over and thank you personally. Didn't we, Draco?"

"Sure." Draco nodded, his lips pulled up in a sneer that matched his father's.

Narcissa Malfoy's lips pursed into a forceful smile and said, "Thank you, Miss Granger."

Hermione kicked Draco's foot, and he coughed before saying, "Hello, Mother. Father."

"Draco," Lucius lulled, "Enjoying your common work at the Ministry?"

"Quite."

"It's good to see you, dear," Narcissa said, reaching up and patting her son on the arm. Draco made to flinch away but stopped himself at the last moment in fear of Hermione's wrathful glare. "It's been too long."

"Not long enough," Draco muttered, causing Lucius to perk his head up.

"Apologize to your mother."

"I won't." Draco shook his head.

"Draco," Hermione started, but he cut her off.

"No." He shook his head again, looking from his father, to his mother, and then back to Lucius. "I won't apologize. If anyone deserves an apology, it's me."

"For what?" scoffed Lucius.

"For… for what?" Draco's voice got higher, angry and stressed. "How about for paying off my girlfriend to leave me just because she wasn't what you considered good enough-"

"I did that to protect you, Draco dear." Narcissa's face looked sincere, but Hermione wasn't fully convinced. "And you should thank me. Any girl who would take money over marriage wasn't worth your time."

"So are you going to bribe Hermione, too?" he whispered, glaring at the both of them. Narcissa opened her mouth to speak, stopped, and closed it quickly. Draco huffed out a breath and regained his composure. "You're right. I should thank you, Mother. Because without your little stunt, I wouldn't have ran into Granger here," He pulled her to his hip, "And I most certainly wouldn't have been able to do this." He swung Hermione around to face him, dipped his head, and landed a very large and deep kiss on her mouth. Hermione's eyes went wide as a few dancing guests stopped to gawk at the couple before Draco pulled away and turned back to his parents, whose mouths hung wide open. Narcissa was the first to shake off her horrified expression to stand and stare directly at Hermione.

"Miss Granger, a word?"

"I… oh, okay," Hermione whispered as Narcissa slipped an arm around Hermione's own and guided her away from the glaring Malfoy men and over to a vacant table. When they got there, Narcissa released her grip on Hermione and pierced her eyes with her own.

"Do you love him?" she snapped suddenly, pulling Hermione out of her shocked daze.

"Wha-What?"

"I asked you if you loved my son," Narcissa said, stretching her neck up in a superior way. Hermione noted to herself that Draco must have gotten that habit from his mom.

"That's a personal question, Mrs. Malfoy."

"He loves you," she stated. "It's written all over his stupidly handsome face. My Draco deserves the best you know." Narcissa's eyes started to swell with tears as her voice began to shake. "I love my son more than anything, Miss Granger. And I made a terrible mistake the last time I saw that look in his eyes. It might have cost me our relationship." A tear fell slowly down her cheek. "Promise me you'll look after him?"

"Narcissa…" Hermione whispered, and reached out to take her hand, but Narcissa recoiled.

"My husband will never accept you. You should know that. And as such, I'm not supposed to accept you either. But…" She trailed off, leaving Hermione's gaze to watch Draco bicker with her husband. "I want you to promise me you'll be good to him."

"I… I promise." Hermione nodded. Narcissa smiled faintly, wiped a tear away with the back of her hand, and took in a deep breath.

"Thank you."

To Hermione's relief, Narcissa sauntered away and back to her husband's side just as Draco appeared in her line of vision. "Hey," He said, "You alright?"

"I'm… good." Hermione looked up to him. "You?"

"Told my father off something good. I feel excellent." He smirked and kissed her cheek. "On top of the world."

"You really should talk to them, eventually. Really talk."

Draco shrugged and rubbed the side of his cheek with his fingers. "Not anytime soon, but I'll do it for you."

"Thank you." She smiled, watching Ginny and Harry glide gracefully across the dance floor. "Would you like to get out of here?"

"This entire banquet is being held in your honor," He pointed out, "And you don't want to stay until the end of it?"

She trailed a hand up his chest, his neck, and finally settled her gloved fingers into his hair to give it a slight tug. "I could think of a few other things that would probably be more enjoyable than this." He closed his eyes at her touch, licked his lips absentmindedly, and nodded.

"So could I." His eyes shot open, and he scooped up her hand in his own, leading her through the crowd of dancing witches and wizards, down the hall and to the elevators.

"Draco, what are you doing?"

He shoved her into the elevator, pressed a button, and began to ravish her neck in kisses as the lift escalated upwards. Hermione felt his tongue snake up to the shell of her ear to whisper, "Remember our first night together?" He trailed his mouth over her jaw and to her lips, where he bit and nibbled. "I'm feeling nostalgic."

The lift settled, and Draco gave a cheerful smirk as he scooped Hermione up over his shoulder and out of the elevator.

"OH my goodness. Draco, put me down!" She laughed, kicking her feet under the frilled skirting. "Put me down this instant!"

"Make me."

He pushed open the double doors to their office with his shoulder and set Hermione down on the nearest desk. "Merlin's beard, you look sexy in that dress."

"You said I would look better out of it." Hermione teased. He put his fingers to his chin, as if pondering, then pulled his wand out of his robes.

"That can be easily remedied."

"Don't you dare!"

But Draco had already said the spell and Hermione's dress was across the room in a soft pile, leaving her in just her underwear, heels, and gloves. His eyes raked over her nearly naked body, over the curve of her breasts and the dip in her waist, and he licked his lips.

Hermione's face grew weary. "What if someone comes in?"

"On the weekend?" He took a step towards her. Then another. And another.

" _We're_ here."

"And?"

"And the least you could do is lock the door." She looked longingly over to her wand, still tucked in its loop around her dress.

"If someone comes in, they could learn a thing or two." His hand reached out and traced the length of her thighs, settling into the groove of her hips. He dipped his head in and bit her neck, earning a muffled moan from her as she tried her best to keep quiet. He nibbled her collar bone, her shoulder, her ear, working up to a deep kiss that made her legs shiver. His grip on her hips tightened as he whispered, "I want to try something new."

"New? Such as?" she asked between bated breaths. He pulled her to her feet, spun her around, and gave her ass a firm smack.

"Want to tie you up," he murmured between kisses that he bestowed to her neck, "I want to see you helpless."

"Tie me up? You mean bondage?" she gasped as a hand slipped between her legs and rubbed against the silk.

"Always with the labels." He tisked while his middle finger trailed across her wet underwear. "Yes. I want to tie you up and then tear you down until you're begging to scream my name. Completely under my control." Another bite to her shoulder, rougher. "Sound like fun?"

"Draco… I… I'm not su-sure… oh…. Oh, bollocks…" she whimpered as he slipped his fingers underneath the silky underwear and pressed them up and into her. "A-alright. Whatever you want."

She felt him grin dangerously against her neck. "I like the sound of that." He gave her body a few good thrusts with his fingers before he withdrew them and licked them clean.

"On one condition."

"Oh?" He reached over her shoulder and gripped her neck in his fingers. "So the bookworm's taking requests now, is she?"

"No. Magic."

His fingers tightened. "Was that a demand? I don't very much like demands."

"A challenge," she offered, loving the feel of his hand against her throat. He gave it one last tight squeeze while his other hand cupped her breast, then he let her go completely, and she fell forward, catching herself against the table. "Unless you don't think you could." She changed a glance back over her shoulder at him, breathing hitched, lips parted. Draco drank in the sight of her and smirked.

"No magic. I can do that." He nodded. "But you have to come over here and undress me first."

"Sure, Draco. Whatever you want," she said huskily, standing up straight. She sauntered to him confidently, tugged off his dress coat, his bowtie, and then went to work on his buttons, eyes never leaving his. When she got to the very last one, she untucked his shirt and left it hanging loosely on his shoulders. He shrugged it off quickly.

"See, Hermione, I don't need magic to tie you up." He smirked. "I've got everything I need right here." He waved his shirt in front of him as Hermione's eyes widened. "Getting cold feet?"

She frowned. "Never." He twirled his finger in the air, and she turned around, hands at her sides, heart beating wildly in her chest. He pressed himself up behind her, shirt in hand and twisted it, thickening the hold it would have on her. When the shirt resembled a thick rope, he pulled her hands behind her and began threading the shirt into a careful knot. With one final tug, he fasted it snugly and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Still needs something. Ah, yes." Draco unfastened his belt and tugged it off. "Walk to your desk and bend over it like a good little slave, would you?" She did as ordered, arms bound behind her back, and crossed the length of the office, imagining that just at that back corner were where she and Draco would file and cross-examine paperwork. It felt so thrilling to be in here –to be back in here –like this. With all of those guests downstairs in her honor… She approached her desk slowly, turning on her heels to face him again.

"What's the matter, Granger? Don't trust me?" He smirked.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but what could she say? She knew she trusted him within an inch of her life. Closer even. She looked to the belt, to him, and then shut her mouth back up and pivoted to face her desk. She braced her legs, finding balance, and closed her eyes as she curved her body over the table. Her breasts made contact with the cold wood and paperwork first, then her stomach, and finally, she relaxed her shoulders to let them slack across the desk too. She was completely exposed this way, she knew, just the way Draco liked it.

He let out a satisfied whistle and stalked to the desk, belt in hand. His free hand went to her restraints, checking them, before grabbing hold of the fabric and tugging her arms back painfully. Hermione winced, and he chuckled. "Legs together, pet." And he set the belt down on the table.

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. She had been sure that belt was going to be used swiftly on her arse, but now she couldn't find the pieces and where they fit. Panic shot up like a bolt through her stomach. She truly, remarkably, had no idea what would happen next. That thought both thrilled her and frightened her. Hesitantly, she pushed her legs together and let out a sigh of exasperation.

"Yes…" He hissed out. Without warning, he fell to his knees behind her and gripped the tight muscles of her arse hidden behind her underwear. He gave each cheek a delicate bite, slow and drawn out and delectably painful. She let out a guttural groan as she shifted stance, but Draco took both sides of her legs and shoved them back together. About to ask why, she stopped when she saw him reach up, grasp the belt from the table, and loop it around her ankles. He fitted it tight, leaving no wiggle room, and fastened it. Hermione tried to wriggle free, finding it was no use. The restraints against her arms and ankles would not budge.

"Who taught you how to tie a knot?" Hermione whispered thoughtfully as she struggled against his shirt rope. The more she tried to wriggle the less in control she felt. She spilled over a bottle of ink, and it began to drip off the side of the desk. "Oops!"

"Stop struggling," he whispered as he stood, "And you might be able to leave this office intact once we're done."

"Honestly, Draco. Could you at least clean up this mess? The rug will stain…" Hermione tried one last time to wriggle free, lost her footing, and her cheek slammed against the desk painfully. He sniggered at her and walked the length of her desk, around to where her big armchair sat, and took a seat. Hermione looked up through her eyelashes at him perched at the head of her desk like a king. "Prick…"

"Who taught you to use that pretty mouth for insults? I could find such a better use for it." He kicked off his dress shoes, his socks, and propped back against the chair, hands behind his head. "We should just leave you like this till Monday, don't you think? All of the department would thank me dearly for the sight." Hermione glared at him, attempted to wriggle free again, and huffed. "Oh, does my dear little lion like to play hard to get?"

"First I'm a bookworm, then a pet, then a little lion. Could you make up a degrading name and stick to it? I'm getting rather jumbled up who I am." She gave him a smirk. She thought she had control again, even if it was in seeing the satisfaction leave her face. But the moment was fleeting because he stood up from her chair and began to unbutton his pants.

"Quite the talker, aren't we, Granger? Perhaps you'd be less inclined to talk back if you had something down your throat." Before Hermione had any idea what to expect, she felt him reach across the table and grip her by the arms to drag her belly down across the face of her desk, until her entire body and half of her legs were propped up on the table. She had to pull her legs up in an L shape to avoid losing balance as her head hung dangerously off the end of the table. That's when she saw how close she was to the zipper of his pants and, wide-eyed, let out a gasp.

"Draco, don't you dare."

"Oh." He smirked. "I dare." In a blur, he whipped it out and shoved his length into her mouth. When he felt her hot, wet tongue come in contact with him, Hermione saw, out of the corner of her eye, his mouth fold into a glorious 'Oh.'

"Fuck…" he managed out as he pressed further and hit the start of her throat. "I never get used to how good this feels." He slid his cock delicately out of her mouth and then slammed it back in, fisting her braided hair.

Hermione groaned against his skin, but it came out as more of a hum as she took him all the way in again. She wriggled against her restraints but found it useless. All she could do was lay there across her desk and be face fucked by Draco, who became a bit more forceful with each thrust.

"You look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth," He mused, pushing particularly deep and holding himself there. She tried to breathe but found it difficult to do with his dick so far down her throat. He let a hand trail from her hair to her cheek, where he rubbed against the soft, pink skin. "So beautiful." She looked up to him, caught his eyes at the right time just as he withdrew himself and crouched down to her eye level. "Having fun, love?" Her eyebrows furrowed, defiant. He shook his head, chuckling. "I get it. You want to feel good too. So," He rubbed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Beg me for it."

"You've practically got me at the disadvantage. You could do whatever you want to me, and you still expect me to beg?" Hermione scoffed. "Fat chance."

"You are right _. I have full control_. So remember that when I tell you to do something, and you _don't_ , your punishment _will_ be severe." He rose up and shrugged off his pants, fully naked and in full view of Hermione as she took in the v-shape of his hips and the toned skin of his torso. He grabbed the top of her hair with his fingernails and pulled, forcing her to contort her body up and over the table. Still fisting her hair, he brought her to sit upright on the desk, legs tucked underneath her, a look of pain mixed with pleasure spread across her face. Wantonly, she closed her eyes and moaned.

"Beg me."

"No…" she answered, breathless.

Draco kneaded one of her breasts, still holding her hair tightly. His mouth went to work on her neck, suckling at the over sensitive skin to leave a bruise. He trailed hickey after hickey down her neck, marking her, claiming her as his. His thumb and middle finger found the pink, round nub of her nipple and gave it a light tug. Hermione's nerves were set on fire. She could feel the slickness between her legs as he built her up, pulling and pinching her nipple until they were fully erect. When he was satisfied, he turned his attention to the other one, giving it a firm twist. She hissed through her teeth and whined, "Don't stop." His fingers became more delicate, tracing around the nub, flicking it every once in a while. Teasing. But Hermione needed the pain. She didn't know why, but she was lost without it. "More."

"More? Ooh, look who's enjoying herself." He obliged and gripped the entire mound of flesh with his fingernails. Hermione yipped in response, then rolled her head back and mechanically rolled her hips. Her thighs spread open. She was coming undone, and it was all because of him. She wanted to grab him, to wrap her legs around him and demand that he do her right then and now, but when she went to do so, her restraints reminded her that she wasn't in control. He was. She rolled her head forward in defeat as he continued to massage her tender breast.

"Draco," She gritted her teeth, "Please. I need it. Please."

"Need? Oh, there's something you need?" His hands left her immediately, and he backed away from the table. Hermione could feel his eyes on her as she shivered, a pile of nerves and sexual frustration presented to him like a shiny new toy. "Maybe I'll just leave you here like this. There's a party downstairs you know. Lots of dancing. I should check on the guests…"

"If you leave me now, I swear to the high heavens you won't get so much as a tea cozy for Christmas."

He laughed and shrugged. "I really could care less. I have all the Christmas present I need sitting right atop that desk. And I think I feel like opening my present up early…"

He crossed the distance between them, swiveled her so that her legs now faced him and put her buckled ankles up over his left shoulder. Hermione found herself once again laid across the desk, on her back this time with her arms tucked uncomfortably behind her, and watched as he pulled her silky panties up the length of her thighs and rubbed the head of his shaft against the wet lips between her legs.

"Fuck it all. I don't care if you beg me anymore, Hermione. I have to have you." And he slipped into the warmth of her, filling her up with his generous length. Hermione's back arched against the aching muscles of her arms, and she gasped. He held himself there inside of her for what seemed like forever, pressing as deep as he could go and proving to her that she was never in control. When Hermione couldn't take it anymore, she rolled her hips and felt him hit the right spot inside of her. "Merlin," He growled, and when she saw the look of pure exhilaration across his handsome face, she did it again.

Over and over she ground her hips this way and that, feeling the steady build up. Draco gripped her legs still bound together over his shoulder and began to meet her hips with his tentative ministrations. Hermione sighed contently, and her back arched up again, exposing her gorgeous breasts as they bounced up and down with the time of their movements.

Draco smacked a hand loudly onto the desk as he drove into her, spilling another ink bottle down across Hermione's calendar. He stopped, looked at her, and they both laughed until Hermione rolled her hips again and he lost all thought, taken adrift by the pure pleasure. His hand ran across the table for balance as he leaned forward and accidently went directly into the ink. "Bollocks." He looked down at his inked hand, over to her, and then smirked. "Mine." He reached down and made a distinct handprint out of ink over one of her breasts. "And this one too…" He said as he trailed his hand and gave her other one a good grip. Hermione gasped at the cold ink and frowned.

"What are you doing?"

"Claiming what's mine… Like this," He smacked her ass hard, leaving another inked print at the same time he drove his dick into her again. When Hermione began to moan in pleasure, he reached up, undid the buckle around her ankles, and pulled her over to the office chair. There he sat her carefully in his lap and on his dick, facing him. "Ride me."

Hermione nodded and did as she was told, arms still folded behind her back, having been claimed not just by his mouth or hands but by the sheer force of his stare. Each roll of her hips signified that she no longer was her own person; she was something more when she was with Draco. Someone vibrant and free and not only in love with him but with herself. Love… she let out a tiny gasp at the thought. Draco took it as a sign of enjoyment and pressed his fingers firmly into v of her legs to guide her hips into a feverish orgasm. Hermione's head fell back, a bead of sweat on her cheek, and moaned loudly in the empty office. Draco watched her, determined to ride out her orgasm before he came inside of her, whispering a string of obscenities and finally her name. The insides of her walls fill up with liquid warmth. She shuddered, relieved in the back of her mind that she knew her contraceptive spells. She could feel his cum nestled inside of her, and it brought a primal satisfaction within her to the surface. Draco's hands slowly went to her arms and untied her. She collapsed on his chest, out of breath, arms slightly numb.

There, she nuzzled into the heat of his collar bone and gave a content sigh. "I love you…"

She watched Draco carefully as he panted out a few breaths and then registered her words. He jerked his head down at her, smirked thoughtfully, and nodded. "Yeah, Granger. I love you too." He leaned down and kissed her attentively. "Merlin's beard, that was some amazing sex."

"Yes, it was…" Hermione looked quietly at her disheveled desk, at the ink stains, at her marked skin. "I'm going to need to shower for a week to feel clean again."

She stood from his lap, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and padded over to her dress, careful to not get ink on it as she slipped her wand out of its loop. With a few flicks of her wand and a couple of glamour charms, she managed to hide the hickeys on her neck and spell away Draco's ink handprints. She was just slipping back into her dress when Draco realized and gave a huffy sigh. "What are you doing?"

"I'm the guest of honor. If I don't make another appearance, Harry might come and look for me. And we both don't want that."

Draco looked to the cluttered, ink riddled desk and back to her. "And what about this?"

She smirked, waved her gloved fingers at him, and crossed the threshold to the double doors. "I think this is your mess, and you should clean it up. After all, you're such a dirty boy." She gave him a flirtatious wink, spelled her hair back into place, and left him all alone to clean up the office.

Draco laughed, picking up an ink bottle and whispered, "Damn right I'm dirty. It's a good thing I have her to set me straight." He looked around to the office as if it heard him. "And if she ever finds out that, Merlin help us all."


	5. Clean Slate

**Bury me standing under your window with the cinder block in hand**   
**Yeah cause no one will ever feel like this again**   
**And if I could move I'm sure it would only be to crawl back to you**   
**I must have dragged my guts a block... they were gone by the time we (talked)...**

**WooOoOo, I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself**   
**But you know that I could crush you with my voice**   
**"The Pros and Cons of Breathing" by Fall Out Boy**

* * *

"Do we have to go?" Draco whined for the umpteenth time, thumbing through Hermione's record collection on her bookshelf. He picked up a rather dusty one and raised a persnickety eyebrow. She watched him stare at the picture of David Bowie with disdain. "Do muggles think painting their faces with lighting bolts is tasteful? Is this a man or a woman?"

Hermione gave a huffy sigh, snatched up the record, and gave him a foreboding look. "You cannot insult David Bowie. Besides, this is an original pressing!" She placed it back with the others and scolded him. "I do not prowl through your personal wizard trading cards."

" _My_ collection is worth a small fortune."

"So is mine."

Draco eyed the discs as if Hermione surely didn't know what a fortune was. "Can't we just send him a card? With some money? It's what my parents always did."

"We're going," Hermione stated simply as she grabbed up her purse, knowing that her words solidified their actions. His rebuttal would fall on deaf ears, and he knew it. "We're going to eat pizza and play board games and be a normal group of adults celebrating a normal birthday."

"But we aren't exactly normal," He smirked as he eyed the room lazily, "And Potter is exceptionally not normal. So who are you trying to convince?"

"Oh… let's just go. And we're taking the car." Hermione turned off the bedroom light, and Draco followed behind her out into the living room and finally to the front porch, where she locked the door with her set of keys and shoved them back into her purse.

"You could just spell it closed."

"I'm aware of that, but not everything needs magic." Her tone was short, and Draco was quick to notice. It didn't stop him from egging her on, however.

"Well, what was the point in learning how to equip yourself with everyday magic if all you insist on doing is the mundane?"

Hermione almost made it to the car. Almost. But she stopped just short and spun on her heels. "For eleven years of my life, I had no idea that there was anything other than the mundane. I survived just fine before then. It must have been nice, growing up with all of that magic, knowing what you were, expecting what you had buried deep within you. But I didn't have such a lavish upbringing, so excuse me if I still hope to keep a bit of my heritage afloat. We weren't all spoiled to magic, like some."

Draco's face was calm, but Hermione saw the muscles in his neck tense at her words. He didn't say a word, but merely opened the passenger door of the car and climbed in. Hermione felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She climbed in as well and as she was buckling she gave a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry," she started. "I don't know what came over me."

She watched his cold expression as he stared at her hands on the wheel, contemplating his next move. She thought he would say something snarky, or perhaps cruel, but all he did was flick on the car radio and set it to a classic rock station. His head turned away from hers as he waited for her to put the vehicle in gear.

Hermione tried to make eye contact with him the entire trip, but he purposely avoided her gaze every time he turned his head towards her. The car ride to Harry's flat felt quite a lot longer thanks to the silence. As they pulled in to the driveway, Draco finally broke the silence, saying, "Bout bloody time." He leaned over the cup holders between them and kissed her on the cheek. "For the record, I denounced my entire family in the name of muggleborns. So the next time you want to pull that card, I'd remember that." He smiled, but his eyes were cold as he climbed back over the console and opened his door. Hermione's cheeks flushed a second time, this one from shame, as she exited the car and stowed away her keys. Draco extended an arm out to her (out of sheer habit from his family upbringing, Hermione was sure), and she took it as they strolled into the apartment building and to the elevators. She pushed the third floor button and fiddled with the bottom of her shirt nervously, until they were on their floor and in front of Harry's door.

Before she could reach up to knock, the door swung open, and a semi-sloshed looking Neville Longbottom answered, a big grin spread across his face. "Hermione! Great to see you!" He scooped Hermione up in a sloppy hug, looked to her left, saw Draco Malfoy, and about fell over in surprise. "M-Malfoy! Blimey! –Er, sorry… I forgot you two were dating now." He brushed his hand anxiously on his pant leg and offered it out. "So I guess we should give it a clean slate. What do you say?"

Hermione watched Draco eye Neville's hand like a mouse trap, glance sideways at her, and then smirk as he patted Neville on the shoulder and whisper, "I'm going to need a lot more drinks in me before I forget that you're a git and that I don't like you." He breezed past Neville and into the party, leaving Neville standing awkwardly with his hand out into the air.

Hermione flinched and apologized. "Ignore him. He's just in a foul mood this evening."

"Right," said Neville sarcastically, "A Malfoy in a bad mood? Never heard of such a thing." He smiled at Hermione and opened the door wider. "Well, I planned on ignoring him, anyway. Feels good to have your support. Come on in. Harry and Ron are in a pretty gnarly game of wizard's chess right now. Ginny's in the kitchen. Told me to tell you that when you got here."

"Thank you, Neville." Hermione strolled into the flat to see Harry and Ron indeed in an epic battle of wizard's chess. Surrounding them stood Seamus, Luna, and Dean. Harry had a tie wrapped around his head like a war headdress, and Ron stuck out his tongue in frustration. He gave a feral smile and said, "Ha! Got you, Harry!" He moved his piece, and Harry let out an anxious sigh.

"You'd really make me lose on my birthday?" he chided.

Ron looked sideways and caught sight of Hermione. "Mione, tell him to stop being a sore loser. He knows he can't possibly win at this point."

Hermione strolled up to the table and looked over the pieces. "He's got you good, Harry."

"Who's side are you on?" Harry laughed. Hermione gave him a hug and kissed his cheek. "Thanks for coming, Hermione. I saw you brought the wet blanket of the evening."

Hermione's heart fell. "What did he do now?"

"Nothing," said Luna, her voice as airy as it had been back at Hogwarts, "He came in, ignored us all, and went into the kitchen."

"Sorry," Hermione muttered.

"Oi, Hermione," said Dean. "Been meaning to ask you what's up with dating Slytherin's pale prince? Thought you and Ron had something special."

Ron stiffened at Dean's words, and Hermione caught his gaze. She was about to open her mouth when Lavender Brown sauntered out of the kitchen, looking royally perturbed. "Granger, if you can't control your bloody boyfriend, I won't be responsible for any hexing!"

Draco strolled out behind her, a glass of wine in his hand and a smirk on his face. "What's the matter, Brown? Can't take some teasing?"

"He completely insulted me!" Lavender jutted her chin towards Ron. "Well, aren't you going to defend my honor?"

"What honor?" Draco sipped his wine lightly. "I do recall the only reason you and Weasley started shacking up was because you tired of your fiancé."

Ron's face reddened, and Harry put his hands up to calm him. He turned around in his chair, tie still on his head, and said, "Malfoy, a word?" He was across the room, a hand around Draco's arm in a flash, and dragged him harshly into the kitchen.

Ginny emerged a moment later, eyes wide.

"Everything alright?" She had two glasses of wine in her hands and handed one to Hermione. "Malfoy seemed a bit more gruff than usual."

Hermione looked around the room, which had taken to a sour atmosphere. Ron was staring down at the chessboard, concentrating a bit too hard. Luna had taken to playing with some of her radish earrings while Dean and Seamus gave each other baffled shrugs. Only Lavender moved, crossing the bit of space between her and Ron and took Harry's seat. "Ronald." She snapped her fingers at him. "Did you hear what that git said?" Hermione knew that look all too well on Ron's face; the one that said he wanted to be left alone. He continued to eye the chessboard. Lavender continued. "Did you hear him?"

"Lav," Ginny scolded, "Lay off." Lavender huffed and crossed her arms, settling on sitting sideways in the chair and pouting. Ginny turned her attention back to Hermione and clinked their glasses together. "Rough weekend?"

"What did he say to Lavender in the kitchen?" Hermione whispered under her breath.

Ginny sighed and muttered back, "Only the truth. That Lavender was an overbearing shrew who kept Ron on a short leash."

Hermione thought about it and couldn't find fault in it, except it was a bit rude. "I was a bit harsh on him before we got here." Quietly, she tip toed near the kitchen door and leaned in, Ginny following closely behind her. Together, they could hear Harry's muffled voice.

"-can't just treat people any way you please, Malfoy. This isn't Hogwarts, and you don't have teachers watching out for your head. You're lucky Ron didn't jump you."

Draco's superior scoff could be heard, as well as a shuffle of feet. "Do you think I'm scared of Weasley? I'd be more apt to be scared of a toothpick."

"You know, instead of being this obnoxious prick, strutting around with a chip on your shoulder, you could try to get along with us. Not for me, or for Ron, or even for you. But for Hermione. You love her, right? Then get your head out of your arse and suck it up."

There was a cold silence, and then, "Like the lot of you would be willing to forgive and forget."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know bloody well what that means. Do you know what it's like to be around all of you obnoxious goody two shoes all of the time? It's annoying. Merlin, it gets under my skin…"

"You're not a cake walk yourself, Malfoy. You're crass, rude, and think you're better than everyone else. When Hermione first started to date you, you know what got me? The fact that she could look past the fact that, for years, you called her 'mudblood'. –Even saying the word now, in this conversation, gets under _my_ skin."

Hermione knew a tear threatened its way through her eyelashes, but she kept it at bay.

"Fuck off, Potter. Golden boy doesn't like the way I was back in Hogwarts? Boo hoo. -I can't help the fact that I was raised differently than everyone here. Brought up another way. I can't take back what my parents did in the War. What _I_ did. -And when I see the disdain in all of your eyes… " He sighed and muttered, "If Hermione can't even forgive my past, then how can I expect it from any of you?"

"So," Harry mused, "You're a git tonight because you feel like the odd man out?" Another silence. "Look, Malfoy, half of my friends still think you're a Death Eater. The other half just hate you because you were a jerk at Hogwarts. But you've been dating Hermione for about a year now, and if she sees good in you, there must be.- So, if you're willing to forget that I'm 'The Golden Boy,' I'll forget that you made our lives a living Hell."

Hermione peeked through the slat between the door and its frame to see Harry holding out his hand.

"But," he said, "That means you can't pick fights with us as a defense. You'd have to try to get along with us."

Draco's back was turned, so she could only imagine the severe sneer on his face as he thought over Harry's offer. Then, "…And you're willing to put it all in the past?"

"If you are." Harry nodded.

Draco paused, reached out his hand, hesitated, and then took Harry's and shook it. Hermione could see Harry's face relax as he smiled.

"Clean slate, and all. I'm Harry –Harry Potter."

Draco released Harry's hand and turned his head so that Hermione saw him smirk. "Heh. And I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Both men began to laugh. Pure, honest laughs. Laughs that were forgiving. "So, Malfoy. Think you can get along with my guests tonight?"

"Can't make any promises… but I suppose I could ease up a bit. It's your birthday, after all." Draco plucked his wine glass off of the counter next to him and took a sip.

Hermione felt Ginny pull on her arm, and she suddenly was dragged into the kitchen. Ginny gave a wry grin and pushed Hermione over towards Draco. "Bout time you two made good with each other. Only took you thirteen years."

"Ginny," Harry sighed, though there was a glint of a smile, "Have you been eavesdropping the entire conversation?"

"Heaven's no!" exclaimed Ginny. "Only most of it."

Hermione turned her eyes to Draco, who suddenly looked down at his wine glass like it was the most intriguing item in the world. She wasn't the only one to notice. Harry coughed and muttered something about clean slates. Hermione wrung her hands and said, "I'm sorry, Draco. When I snapped at you earlier… it wasn't because of you. –Well, a little of it, but that doesn't warrant me the right to be a complete dolt." He glanced up at her, and she felt her chest tighten. "Do you think I hold our past against you?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't." She shook her head as she put a hand on his arm. "I forget how odd being around everyone must be for you."

He rolled his eyes and smirked at her. "Don't get your knickers in a twist over it. I'm not going to let a bunch of Gryffindor goody-goodies ruin my evening."

There came a quiet knock, and then Neville came through the kitchen door, apologetic. "Harry, you better get out here. Seamus and Dean just started an every flavored beans competition, and well – Dean got one he claims tastes exactly like fish poo…"

"How in Merlin's name would he know that?" Harry laughed. He started to follow Neville out of the kitchen, stopped, then turned and said, "Malfoy, you don't want to miss this. Dean's never wrong about the beans."

Neville gave a puzzled expression to both Harry and Draco, and Hermione thought he might blanch completely at the sight of Draco smiling. Draco turned to her, gave her a small kiss on the cheek, and said, "Well, that I'd have to see."

* * *

For the most part, the next few hours of Harry's birthday went smoothly. Draco hadn't apologized to Lavender, but, really, no one except her expected him to. Instead, he made good of a few rounds of guessing every flavored beans, then challenged Ron to a drinking competition, where by the end of it both men were sloshed beyond all doubt. They had just taken to singing the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team anthem when Hermione was finally able to set back and take in the sight of Draco Malfoy getting along with his longtime enemies. It was a sight to see, she thought proudly as she sipped on her third cup of wine. Ginny and Harry were snuggled on the armchair, exchanging long kisses every minute or so.

"S'nice, isn't it?" said Neville, sitting next to Hermione on the sofa. He had his wand out and flicked it every few moments to illuminate the room with colorful puffs of smoke. "All of us being here together."

Luna, who sat on the other side of Neville, nodded in agreement. "It most certainly is wonderful to see."

"Do you think it could always be like this?" asked Hermione, staring off into the corner where Ron, Dean, Seamus and Draco were busy discussing Quidditch.

"Sure," Replied Neville, "If Malfoy can hold his tongue." He was quick to re-approach when he saw Hermione's sideways glance. "No offense. It's just –I never thought I'd see the day that a Malfoy would break bread with any of us."

"But he isn't really a Malfoy now, is he?" Said Luna in her light voice as she stared off at the ceiling. "He's changing. I saw him at your award's ceremony at the beginning of the year. He wasn't too fond of his parents, then."

"You saw that?" Hermione asked quietly. She swished her wine about in her cup and sighed deeply. "I keep telling him he should talk to his family again. That it was so long ago… But to him, it's like it was yesterday."

"What happened?" Neville asked, confused. Hermione leaned forward and in a hushed tone filled Neville in on Draco's previous relationship and that Draco's mother had paid his girlfriend off to leave him alone. Neville whistled and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That explains a lot."

"But I can't get him to reconcile," she said, looking at Luna and Neville with conviction. "And I'm not sure that he's stable like this. He never wants to talk about his past. And it never used to bother me… until he started telling me I should use my magic more. Then all I can think of is that he holds on to his upbringing so much that… well… I don't know. I feel that he should either let his customs go or suck it up and speak to his parents again."

"Put yourself in his shoes." Luna pulled her legs up on the couch and crossed them, facing both Hermione and Neville. "If my father did what his did, I might never want to speak to him again either. But it would be hard to let my upbringing go. You must be more patient with him. If you are, I think he would give in to you more."

Hermione looked into Luna's soft eyes and felt a wall crumble in her mind. She nodded. "You're right. I've been so busy trying to protect my muggle customs that I didn't think about how hard it must affect him not to be around his customs all the time. Maybe I should ease up on him a bit…"

"See? You've opened your mind to new possibilities. Isn't it beautiful?" Luna grinned from ear to ear. "I'm proud of you, Hermione."

Hermione wasn't sure what there was to be proud of but nodded all the same. That's when she caught sight of Harry pulling Ginny up to her feet and swinging her around in his arms. She giggled, and he grinned, and it was all so darn cute of course Draco had to say, "For Merlin's sake, get a room! Watching you two snog is revolting for everyone here."

"As much as I hate to agree with the git, he's right," Ron piped up. "I don't want to see my mate and my sister get it on in front of me. Bloody disgusting."

"Well then," replied Harry, and Hermione watched on in surprise as he kneeled down in front of Ginny, whose face suddenly turned the color of parchment. The room hushed. "Instead of snogging in front of the room, would it be better if I asked you to be my wife?"

Even Ginny's freckles seemed to have paled. Everyone watched on as Harry pulled a ring out of his back pocket, one that glistened in the faint glow of the room, and held it up to Ginny's hand. "Ginny, would you do me the extreme honor of marrying me?"

Ginny gasped, then suddenly turned a violent shade of red and nodded her head feverishly. "Yes. Oh my gods, Harry. Yes. Yes!"

Harry slipped the ring on her finger and then pulled her down onto the floor to kiss her. They fell over when Ginny lost her balance, and they fumbled backward into the couch, laughing and then kissing in the afterglow. Ron cheered. Luna danced around. Neville clapped while Dean and Seamus sent streamers out of the tips of their wands. Lavender was crying into a paper napkin. Only Draco seemed out of place at the moment, seated in one of the foldable chairs, back to the wall, quiet and reserved as he stared on at the happy couple. Hermione thought he might bolt if not for being cornered in by Ron, but instead, his body relaxed and he glanced her way.

Pensive. Thoughtful.

She didn't know why, but she felt herself come undone as his silver blue eyes latched onto her chocolate colored ones. As if he suddenly had taken every stacked block in her perfect world and shifted the table they rested on. She felt herself slip, felt every axis shift. Something in that look did something to her soul, and she didn't know if it would ever fully recover.

Hermione didn't know exactly when she pulled her eyes away from him, but she did, and she began to clap and cheer for her friends. It wasn't until Draco was by her side on the couch that she had even noticed he had moved at all. He said not a word, settling on resting a hand on her knee as he smirked onwards as Harry found his footing and pulled Ginny up to stand.

"Bloody Hell," Ron said, coming to stand at Harry's side. "Could have given me a heads up before you decide to marry my sis, Har."

"You're terrible with secrets!" Hermione found herself shouting across the room. "I think it's brilliant he didn't tell any of us."

"What if I had said no?" teased Ginny to her fiancé. Harry shrugged.

"Turning me down in front of our friends? That hardly seems like something you'd do. I figured I had more of a chance this way." He laughed as she socked him in the shoulder with her fist. "Hey, don't hit me! I'm the birthday boy!"

"You are most certainly the birthday boy," Ginny said and pulled him down to her level to kiss him square on the lips. "And do you know what birthday boys get?"

"Aaaaand that's our cue to leave," Draco whispered to Hermione out of the side of his mouth. He smirked over at her and laced his long fingers through her tiny ones. Then he said louder, "I don't want to be here for a reveal of the birthday suits."

"You and me both," said Ron, gathering up Lavender's coat. "Come on, Lav. Let's leave the love birds alone to… do love bird things."

Lavender was still crying into her napkin, although now it was much smaller and soppy wet. "It was so adorable! Oh, Ronald!" She sniffled. "When you purpose, you better live up to that. Maybe write it in the sky?"

Hermione was sure Ron's face matched his hair as he muttered, "Erm… sure, Lav. If we get to that point…"

Everyone filtered out of Harry's apartment then, and Neville suggested going out for pancakes, to which everyone but Ron agreed to. He suddenly claimed to have a very violent stomach bug and excused himself, telling Lavender to go on ahead. Hermione watched as he apparated out of the hallway without so much as another passing glance to anyone.

"You scared the shite out of him," Draco chided to Lavender. "All that talk of marriage."

"Did not!" Lavender pouted, crossing her arms. "Hermione, what do you think?"

"I think I'm the last person you want to answer that question," said Hermione as she slipped a hand around Draco's waist and hugged him. "Actually, Neville, I think we'll just head home."

"Sure." Neville nodded thoughtfully. He pulled his wand out of his pockets to apparate, but Draco coughed and caught his attention. The blonde then held out a welcoming hand and said, "Clean slate and all."

"Blimey…" Neville whispered, then shook his head as if in a daze and grabbed Malfoy's hand with his own. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"I told you- I needed a bit more alcohol in me."

Draco smirked as the group parted ways, leaving him and Hermione alone in the hallway. His eyes were heavy, most likely due to all the alcohol, and he gave a big yawn as he stretched his long figure. "This has got to be one of the oddest nights I've ever encountered."

"If you had told me that you and Ron would be drinking buddies in the future, I would have wondered who was using Polyjuice potion to be you."

"Shut up." He laughed as he ran his hands over her stomach and down to the curves of her hips. "Or I might just make you…"

"Says the drunk man."

"Your drunk man."

She rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand. "I think we've both had a few too many to drive. We'll pick the car up in the morning." She slipped her hand in his and concentrated on her house. Seconds later, they were standing in her bedroom. The only light that they could make out peeked through the curtains from the moon. Hermione didn't notice Draco was standing so close until he dipped his head low and kissed her on the lips. It was gentle but urgent, and it startled her slightly. When he pulled away, he whispered, "You are so sexy, you know?"

"And you are so drunk…" she mused, pushing his chest lightly with her index finger.

"Doesn't mean I'm wrong." He pushed on her shoulders and her knees buckled against the bed, sending her back onto the soft cushion of her comforter. Draco wasted no time in straddling her legs and pinning her down. Hermione felt his hands slip over her wrists. "Do you know how frustrated you make me?"

"Sexually? Or emotionally?" she teased. His fingers tightened their grip on her.

"There you go again." He rubbed his nose against the soft crook of her neck, leaving a trail of his warm breath as he spoke. "Thinking you're better than me."

"What? No, I don't-" Hermione started, but he captured her lips in a fierce kiss that took the very breath out of her. His tongue dipped in as she parted her mouth, and he found pleasure in running his tongue against hers, teasing. While he kissed her, he dragged her arms slowly above her head and pinned them there.

He jerked away from the kiss suddenly and bit her lower lip. "Does it turn you on, letting a Malfoy control you? Putting your body in the hands of someone who could just as easily break you as give you undeniable pleasure?"

Hermione's body quivered under the words, but something in the back of her mind wouldn't let her enjoy this. She struggled to pull herself away from him, to question why he would say such things, but he held her in place, content on biting down her neck in gentle nips. She gasped when he sunk his teeth into her shoulder vehemently. "Draco…" She lost control of her thoughts as he snaked his tongue down her collar bone.

They were only brought back to the surface when he spoke again.

"Tell me, Granger. What turns you on more? Thinking you're superior or knowing that you have no control at this moment?"

She felt her eyebrows pull together, and knew somewhere between the pleasure that his words were stinging. That they were filled with venom. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on speaking. "I do not think I'm superior to you."

"Don't you?" he hissed in her ear. "You talk down to me like being who I am is something less than you."

"I don't-"

"You do." His tongue worked its way around the shell of her ear seductively. "Merlin, and damn it if I don't enjoy it. You're right, Hermione. I'm worthless."

"Draco." Hermione wriggled again, trying to set herself free from his grasp, but found it quite difficult. "What's wrong with you? Why are you saying these things?"

The room was eerily quiet, and she was sure she could have heard a pin drop. The only sounds were her heavy breathing and a heavy sigh from him until he said, "I'm worthless."

"No." She shook her head. Eyes squinting, she struggled to see his face through the darkness. "No, Draco. You're not. Why would you think that?"

He released her hands and rolled off of her, to the top of the bed and settled on staring up at the ceiling. It was a time before he spoke again. "I haven't got shite to my name, do I? A Malfoy with no status or money, fraternizing with Harry bloody Potter." He threw a pillow across the room and hit the dresser. "What am I? Honestly, Hermione? What the Hell happened to me?"

Hermione rolled over and settled her head in the crook of his arm. "You matured."

"Maturity," he scoffed. "Sounds like I rolled over and let the world kick me."

"Are you that mad about being friendly with Harry? With my friends?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean – Merlin's testicles, this isn't the way I planned my life out."

"Well," she snuggled into his side and draped an arm around his torso, "How did you plan it out?"

He paused as if thinking about her question with a degree of detail. Then he said, "I supposed I planned on marrying young. Making my family proud. I planned on having a son – someone to give the Malfoy name to. I planned on inheriting my family's fortune and quite honestly not doing much of anything in the line of work. –Now, I have no money. I work for shite pay, live in a shite flat in a muggle part of town, and the only thing I have to show for myself is you."

Hermione's heart stammered in her chest. "Does that bother you? Being with me?"

"No. Why would it?" His voice was concerned as if that had never crossed his mind. "You're the only good thing in my life. And you have so much going for you. A promising career-"

"-Getting a pay raise is hardly a promising career-"

"But you have opportunities, you know? I did, when I was under my father's thumb, but since I left, my father has set to it that I have no connections in the Ministry. And I'm not good at much besides pushing papers, Potions and Quidditch. My friends at Hogwarts all moved on, and they never can understand why I hang around with you, so I say fuck them. And you… you have friends. Merlin, you have friends that love you and care for you and would put up with me- ME. The one who made their lives living Hell! And they'd do it all for you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "They don't do it for me. When I dated Viktor Krum, Ron blew every gasket he had. They do it, Draco, because whether you want to believe it or not, there is some good in you. And they see that."

He made a guttural scoff and began to rub his fingers on the top of her head. "Love you."

"Love you too." She leaned up and kissed his chin. "I think I like you with alcohol in you. You open up more."

Draco chuckled. "Don't push your luck. I also get quite handsy when I'm liquored up…" He rolled on his side to face her, then leaned forward and kissed her delicately. "So… you think there's good in me?"

"I know it." Hermione smiled in the dark. She could just make out the silver in his eyes as he stared at her. He looked to be weighing a dark thought. "What?"

"Nothing I ever planned has ever come to fruition. Not with my family, or my career, or marriage…" He let his voice trail there, thickening the tension like a dense fog. Her mind swam with visions of Harry and Ginny, laughing and kissing and so happy… she thought of Draco with a ring, planning to purpose to an unknown face. The disappointment he must have felt. But then she thought of her future, and of his, and of things she hadn't thought of before but… somewhere, deep inside of her, she wanted to think about it. Not that he would ever… would he? She didn't dare breathe until he spoke again. "But I suppose it's not so bad that my plans never panned out. I wouldn't have met up with you again. And I most certainly wouldn't have ever considered that you would have been the best shag of my life."

"Gee, you sure know how to make a girl feel special…"

"I'm sorry. Did I say the best? I meant the worst. Terrible. Dreadful. Simply awful."

Hermione sat up and leaned over him. "That so?"

"Prove me wrong?"

At this angle, Hermione could see the moonlight hit his face as he raised a precocious eyebrow. She smirked down at him and trailed her free hand (the one that wasn't busy propping her up) down his torso to the waistband of his slacks. She unbuckled his belt slowly, making sure to bite her lip seductively. Without a word, she slipped her hand beneath his boxers and grabbed the tender muscle beneath. Draco gave out a hiss of pleasure at the warmth of her hand. It didn't take him long to grow to full length, and she pulled his cock out into the cold air before leaning down and taking him in her mouth.

Her tongue tasted the saltiness of his precum and the delicious flavor that could only be described as Draco as she slipped her lips down over the length of his cock and swallowed it. He gasped, his free hand already working its way under her flowy cotton skirt to her panties, where he settled a finger firmly against the wetness there. As her head rose up and she came back up to the tip, she felt him slip a finger underneath the fabric and run it along her slick folds. "So wet for me already." He jerked the soft underwear down her legs. "Have to taste you…"

Draco grabbed her hips and pulled her on top of him, not caring that she gave a gasp of surprise and completely abandoned his dick. She turned her head back towards him, watching as he settled his face between her legs, bunching up her skirt to her stomach. And then, his tongue lapped at her clit. Hermione gave a soft, uncontrollable moan and propped herself on her elbows to support herself as she gave way to his mouth. His tongue trailed little circles around her clit, then he dove head first and began to flick his tongue with just the right pressure. She gripped the bedsheets and fell even more forward, face just inches from his throbbing erection. She reached down, half in a daze, and took him back in her mouth again, trying to match his speeds as he sped up and slowed down, lapping at her with feverish excitement. She felt him twitch in her mouth as she rolled her hips absently. Oh, God, she thought, how hot this all was.

His hands gripped her ass cheeks, spreading them wide before he pressed a thumb just barely against the sensitive skin of the opening there –Hermione jumped in surprise, gasping into the length of him in her mouth before she shot up, eyes wide. "What are you-?" But he rubbed his finger around the edges again, and a wave of pleasure Hermione had never felt crashed over her like a tempest. He pressed his finger against her asshole, gently, not prying, while rubbing his tongue soothingly against the nub of her clit. "Oh… oh my…" This was new. This was definitely new, and Hermione wasn't sure if she should jump off of him and chew him out for not asking her first or beg him for more. She settled on moaning softly while gripping at her own skin that was set on fire at his touch.

He rolled her over then, onto her stomach, ass up in the air and skirt falling all around her as he settled his face between her legs again, this time letting his tongue trail over all of her. When it skirted across her in the most intimate of places, she gasped at the feeling. It was truly like nothing she had ever felt before. And had this been anyone else, she would have hexed them into oblivion. But this wasn't someone else. This was Draco, and she felt safe enough to let herself be touched this way. In a way she would have never allowed otherwise.

He took his time, dragging his tongue over every bit of her between her thighs before he bit her ass cheek and sat up. "You alright?" he asked, even as he pulled her hair back and forced her to sit up on her knees. She gave out a meek moan and nodded.

"I… you… I've never…"

"Did you like it?" he whispered into her hair.

"Y-Yes…"

"Good." He released her hair and jerked her shirt up over her head in a wild frenzy. Before long, her bra was discarded as well, and his fingers raked over the supple curve of her breasts. His nails dug in as he pulled her back against his chest and dipped his head into the curve of her neck. "All I ever want to do is make you feel good, Hermione…" His teeth nipped at her flesh. "I want to make you scream into your pillow like my dick was the word of God." One hand trailed down to her hips and jerked her into an arched pose. "Would you like that, Granger? Would you like me to make you pray for more?" She could hardly make a sound, so instead she nodded and reached her hand behind her until she found him and guided his length between her legs. He chuckled into her ear, teasing, pressing ever so close but not quite deep enough to drive in. She groaned in frustration, and it only made him more satisfied. "Say it. Pray for it. I'll gladly answer you if you just beg me for it…"

Hermione rolled her hips, feeling his dick rub against the wet, wanting lips of her pussy. She growled, frustrated, and finally whispered, "Please… God, Draco… please, I need it. I need you in me, just…"

"Who is your God, Granger?"

"Fuck… Draco, please, just-"

"Who is your God?" he asked again.

Hermione sighed. "You are, Draco. You are. Please, God, just take me…"

And so he did, slipping into her like she was a fitted glove made for him and him alone. He gasped as he sheathed himself within her, filling her to the brim and making her shake under his touch. He took no time in favoring one of his favorite positions, laying back underneath her with his elbows propping him up, leaving her to sit atop him like a glorious trophy. Hermione felt him roll his hips up, moving within her, and she moaned in response. He outstretched an arm, and his nails dug into her back so that it arched. Then he rolled his hips underneath her again.

Hermione's head fell lazily to the side, one of her hands in her hair, the other on her stomach, mouth parted as she let him roll into her again and again and again. Draco let her meet his pace as she soon began to buck her hips forwards and backward in response to his thrusts. This was home to them. This was where, at least Hermione was sure to herself, that she felt most alive; in bed with Draco Malfoy doing unholy things as she moaned softly into the dark.

It didn't take long for the buildup to tighten her walls around him, and she held her breath as she came, letting the orgasm wash over her like bathing in the light.

"Again," he demanded. And he took her hips and forced them into a steady rhythm with his own, until again she came, screaming his name this time with a slur of obscenities. "Again."

"I –I don't know if I can…"

"Again."

He turned her around to face him and cradled her in his lap, this time kissing her over her neck, her shoulders, her nipples as he rocked her body in the darkness. Hermione's orgasm was mild, but it was satisfying, and she gasped into his shoulder when she released.

"Yes…" His voice purred in her ear. "Good girl. You love to come, don't you, pet?"

"Yes," she mumbled incoherently. "Yes, Draco, I do…"

"Again then," he encouraged. She leaned up and stared down at him, bewildered.

"Are you going for a record or something?"

"Or something," he quipped, moving his hips and pressing the sweet spot within her. "Unless you don't think you have it in you. I know how prideful you Gryffindors can be, so if you can't, just come out and," He already was building her up as he pressed deep into her, "say it."

"Oh, go to Hell." She groaned and began to rock herself on his dick with a zealous animosity. By the time she built up to her final orgasm, he was right along with her, pink tinting his cheeks as he forced himself to hold out. When she finally gave in, and she collapsed around him, he drove into her with one last pleasant thrust and came as well.

"Holy fuck…" he muttered as the last of his orgasmic high shimmered over his skin. Hermione felt him reach up and cup her cheek. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, she caught him staring up at her, flustered, chest heaving up and down. He gripped the side of her neck and pulled her down into a deep, passionate kiss, then released her and pulled her across his chest. "That was… quite literally… the best fuck… I've ever had."

Proudly, Hermione laughed against his sternum and kissed the skin there. "You say that every time."

"Well, I mean it every time." He rubbed his fingers along the small of her back. "Merlin, Hermione. I fucking love you."

She paused, soaking in his words. Then she said, "I love you too, Draco. Very much."

"I… I want this to last." He said, his voice quieter. "I want this to stay this way."

"It will." She leaned up and kissed him softly. "Why wouldn't it?"

"I just have this bad feeling…"

The sound of pecking interrupted their conversation, and Hermione's head shot up to the bedroom window. She gathered some of the blankets around herself and padded her way to the window, opened it, and a gray owl the size of a small dog flew in and landed on the floor. It stared at Hermione, then to Draco, then extended a clawed talon where a scrolled up note was tied.

"That's my father's owl," Draco muttered, pulling on his boxers before giving the owl a pat on the head and removing the scroll. He read it to himself without a word, and as he got to the end, his eyebrows furrowed together. He read over it a second time, then a third, finally shooting his eyes up to Hermione, a stricken look on his face.

"Draco?" Hermione asked. "What does the letter say?"

"It… it's my mother…" he whispered, crushing the note in his grip. "She…. She died."


	6. Trials

**It's alright to shake**   
**Even my hand does sometimes**   
**So inside we rage**   
**Against the dying of the light**

**It's alright to say**   
**That death's the only thing you haven't tried**   
**But just for today**   
**Hold on  
"Even My Dad Does Sometimes" by Ed Sheeran**

* * *

The funeral took place three days later on the Malfoy estate in the tombs, where all Malfoys go once taken from this world. Lucius had a special mausoleum built overnight in his wife's honor. It stood tall, made of marble and glass, and had taken six workers to craft it brick by brick. Narcissa's viewing took time; pure blood families from many of the Sacred Twenty Eight came to pay their respects, leaving Draco to shake hand after hand. In the evening, when his mother had been put to rest, Lucius pulled him aside and asked him to stay for the evening to discuss inheritance. Hermione felt so very much out of place through the entire funeral, and even more so when they sat in the sizeable living quarters of the Malfoy Manor, still in their black dress clothes, silent as the grave to which Draco's mother now slept.

He sat across from her in a large armchair, the cuffs of his black dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. One of his legs draped over the side of the armrest, and he had a sizeable glass of scotch tucked away in his right hand. He said not a word as he nursed from his liquor every few moments or so, leaving Hermione to sit quietly on the loveseat facing the fire. She watched the flames dance along the burning embers and thought about all that Draco must be feeling. It made her want to reach out, to hold him, to console him, but any time she had tried the last three days had been met with shrugs and quips. He had refused to open up to her in the slightest from the moment he read his father's letter.

As if aware he was being thought of, Lucius's feet clacked against the marble floor as he entered the room. His funeral robes made a swish across the floor. He took a seat in the largest armchair adjacent to Draco and unclasped the top of his robes. Hermione had never seen Lucius look so disheveled before; his eyes were sunken and carried dark circles, and his robes were wrinkled. He looked about ten years older than he was as he put his head in his hands and rubbed his swollen eyes. As his head rose, he found Hermione staring at him, and then his façade was up once again. He raised a superior eyebrow and looked over to his son. "I am glad to see you home, Draco. Even if it is under unfortunate circumstances."

Draco made a scoff under his breath and took another swig of his drink. "That's the understatement of the century. Mother just died –could you not make it sound as if we just lost the family pet?"

Lucius's lip twitched, but he kept his composure. "Miss Granger," he said, putting his glare towards her. "I understand the muggle community refers to it as cancer?"

Hermione's breath caught, and she had to remind herself to breathe as she spoke. "Y-Yes. That's right."

He nodded in response then said, "I also understand even muggles have no cure for it. You would think, that out of the two, wizard or muggle would have surely come up with a cure by now?"

"If you hadn't been so arrogant, a muggle doctor could have saved her," sneered Draco, "And she'd be alive right now."

"Draco." Hermione scolded, "That's uncalled for."

"Is it?" Draco pried his eyes away from his drink long enough to give her a vicious glare. "I was only pointing out the obvious Boggart in the room. –Wasn't I, Father? That if your pure blood narcissism hadn't been so potent, you might have reached out to a muggle for help. They have therapies for things like this. But we all know how much you detest anything non-magic…"

"Enough." Lucius didn't yell, but his voice was firm. He rubbed the stubble under his chin. "You have made your point, Draco. I would advise you to quit while you're ahead."

Hermione wasn't sure if she should say anything, but the guilt written over Lucius's face forced it out of her. "It was brain cancer. Even in the muggle world, that is very hard to overcome. I'm not sure she would have survived, even if she received the proper treatment…"

"Don't do that," Draco snapped.

"Do what?"

"Ease his mind. Don't you do it. Let him stew in his guilt until it consumes him."

"So that I might resemble you?" retorted Lucius. "Tell me, what were the last words you said to your mother? I can't remember… perhaps it has to do with the fact that it was so long ago since you last spoke to her."

Draco's eyes shifted angrily at his father, and in a fit he threw his glass across the room. It hit the wall and shattered, echoes of broken glass bouncing across the room. He stood from his chair and said venomously, "It should have been you. You should have been the one to-!"

"-Stop it!" Hermione stood as well and stomped an angry, heeled shoe into the floor. "Now I know this is a family affair and quite frankly none of my business, but I won't sit here and watch the two of you destroy each other." She looked back at the dripping wall and then to Draco. "You're better than this. Don't let him turn you into someone like him."

Draco's hands shook as he brought them up to his face, then brought them back down. He flexed them into fists, closed his eyes, and then inhaled deeply. When he was done, he opened his eyes and crossed the room in seconds to pull her into his arms. He buried his face in her curls and squeezed her. Hermione, shocked at the sudden affection, smiled meekly and patted his back. Lucius made a sound –something between a scoff and a growl – and Draco pulled away. He looked as if he were about to speak, but something behind Hermione caught his eye and all the color drained from his handsome face.

"Gwen?" he whispered.

Hermione turned around to see a very tiny woman standing in the archway, with cheeks as pink as pastry icing and the most captivating green eyes she had ever seen. Around her face spilled chestnut curls that hit just below her shoulders. She was so petite and beautiful that she looked quite like a little China doll. She wore a simple black dress that fell just above her knees and long black heels. Even in her shoes, she barely came up to Hermione's shoulder. Gwen tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and smiled shyly.

"Hello, Draco," she said.

Hermione looked from the gorgeous woman to Draco, then the cogs in her mind began to turn. "Gwen. As in… Gwenevere Abbot? Your ex?"

He didn't answer, but how could he when his mouth was wide open? He was obviously in shock, and it took his father rising from his chair to snap him out of it. Draco closed his mouth quickly, shaking his head from the fog of his mind. "What?" He looked inquisitively to Hermione. "Did you say something?"

"Miss Abbot…" Lucius sneered, resting a hand on his son's shoulder. "To what do we have the… I wouldn't quite say 'pleasure' – of your visit?"

"I heard about Narcissa's passing. I would have come sooner, but I thought my presence might not be welcome at the funeral." She wrung her hands together timidly, looking over to Draco. "I'm so sorry. Your mother was a wonderful woman. She truly was."

Draco's hands went defensively to Hermione's sides, snaking around her with a vice grip. Hermione blushed at the sudden claim as he said, "You say that as if you really cared about anything but the money she paid you."

"Draco…" Gwen gasped, putting her hands over her mouth. A tear swelled up in her eye. "You… did you think I took that money? Have you thought that all this time?"

Hermione felt as if she really didn't belong here, in this moment, sandwiched between the Malfoys and Gwen Abbot. Her insides felt as if they were being churned with razor blades. She looked up and saw Draco's resolve falter.

Shakily, he said, "Of course you did. Why else would you have left?"

Gwen's green eyes glistened against the pale illumination of the fireplace. She took a step closer, hesitated, and then took another. Draco's hands fell from Hermione's sides and he recoiled, stepping backwards. Gwen noticed and sighed. "Your mother offered me that money, but I didn't take it. I swear I never did. It was only after she told me that you planned to marry me that I… Oh, Draco. You must think the worst of me."

Lucius stood most awkwardly next to Hermione, both of them caught in the crossfire of the ex-lovers. Lucius coughed, then to Hermione's amazement put a hand on the small of her back and said, "Miss Granger, I don't believe you've ever had a full tour of the Manor. Would you like to accompany me?" Though it was asked as a request, it was most certainly a demand. He ushered her out of the room post-haste, leaving Draco staring into the fireplace and Gwen standing nervously behind him. When they were in the hall, Lucius removed his hand from Hermione's back and sneered, "Of all nights, Miss Abbot certainly has the worst timing."

Hermione choked back tears. She wasn't sure when she had become so flustered. Maybe it was when she had seen Gwenevere for herself. Maybe it was in the way Draco had said her name. Or the way he looked at her, as if he were staring at all of the world's prettiest flowers all at once. She blotted her eyes with the back of her hands and whispered, "She's beautiful."

Lucius looked as if he were in annoyed pain, but humored her in conversation. "She's as shifty as she is elegant, Miss Granger. As you are firmly aware, my son and I do not share the same opinions about muggles or muggle-born wizards. Even so, I would much rather put up with your existence than to ever let that minx back into his life."

She took the moot compliment at face value and pocketed it before she played over the last of his words in her head. "You knew she didn't take the money, didn't you?"

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Of course I knew she didn't take the money. But to tell my son the truth would be to shatter his world. That little cur in that room got cold feet at the responsibilities that would come with being a Malfoy."

"Responsibilities, Mr. Malfoy?"

He sighed, exasperated, but muttered, "Narcissa was a wonderful wife. And a glorious mother. We left our son wanting for nothing, and yet he still found rebellion to be his first action as he grew older. To be a Malfoy, Miss Granger, is to uphold a legacy of tradition and respect. It means pure blood. It means status. Gwenevere wanted all of the glamour but could not take the weight of being the first muggle-born in the family. When my wife revealed Draco's intentions, she offered Gwenever a substantial compensation to leave Draco and never come back. But she refused. She stated that she simply couldn't imagine a life without him. And that's when Narcissa reminded her of our lineage. Take away my distain for your kind, Miss Granger, and simply imagine being on the cover of every tabloid for breaking the Malfoy tradition of pure blood. Imagine what that would do to a small, country girl such as Miss Abbot, who shies away from any and all spotlight. Being a Malfoy means being at the center of any and all things Wizard. It means having your hand in politics, business, even in the funding of the schools. It's power. And it comes with a sullied name. Death Eaters. Followers of You-Know-Who. Our name is now synonymous with darkness. To be with a Malfoy means to put your own reputation at risk. Miss Abbot couldn't take the heat of the kitchen, so to speak. So she abandoned Draco and never told him why. Because, to put it simply, she wanted all of the luxury of being with a Malfoy without any of the price."

Hermione took in his words, but couldn't make sense of them. "But… Draco and I are together. I've never once worried what other people would think of me for being with him. Quite frankly, Mr. Malfoy, I dislike you with a passion, but that has never made me ashamed to be with Draco. He's not like you."

Malfoy senior gave a heinous smirk. "Isn't that the truth, when you get down to it?" He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "For your own sake, I hope you remember everything that was said here. You claim to love Draco? Yes? Put yourself in Gwen's shoes. Could you stand to be taunted –hated even, for loving him? Because that's what you'll bring on yourself. Our world is nothing glamourous anymore."

Hermione straightened her back and gave Lucius a contemptible glare. "We've been doing just fine so far. All of my friends are his now. And we have quite a wonderful life, without you or your reputations to hold us back. You think he's weak, but he's stronger than you know. And if he knew that you tried to pull one over on me the way your wife did to Gwenevere, he would never speak to you again."

The smirk fell from Lucius's lips. "I see why you were placed in Gryffindor, Miss Granger. Quite the brave one, aren't you?" He stepped back away from her and brushed imaginary specks of dust from his robes. "No matter. I dare say you won't be on Draco's mind much longer anyways. What with Miss Abbot staying the night as well?" He chuckled as Hermione's cheeks reddened. "One day he will open his eyes and see the both of you for what you are: filth at the bottom of our shoes. But until then, have fun fighting over who might be the prettiest bit of dirt. I can assure you, mudblood, it is not you."

He turned on his heels and climbed the staircase to their left, leaving Hermione alone in the hall. Tears streamed down her cheeks when she was sure he could no longer see her face, and she began to sob into the sleeves of her dress. She slipped her heels off of her feet and looked back towards the arched way leading to Draco and Gwen, but thought better of it and left out the front door instead. She padded her way barefoot down the stone steps and out to the gardens, where she found solitude next to the lily pond in the center of a bed of tulips. Under the light of the moon, Hermione cried.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed. All she knew was that the hidden insecurity of Gwen had risen to the surface like lava erupting from a volcano. She had told herself time and time again that Draco's anger towards his mother was justified, but it had always bothered her that he couldn't forgive Narcissa. Why couldn't he, she wondered, when Narcissa's actions had brought them so close together? But one look at Gwen confirmed her suspicions – that Draco could never have forgiven his mother, because he was still so desperately in love with Gwenevere. God, Hermione thought to herself, how stupid could she have been?

She sobbed big, fat tears that stung the back of her eyes. Mucus lined her sleeves. She was suddenly aware how cold it was just before she heard the cracking of twigs behind her, and Draco's voice say, "There you are." She curled in on herself against the weight of her knees and tried to hush herself. Draco came around in front of her, at the edge of the pond, his hands in his pockets. "What do you think you're doing down there, Granger?"

She rubbed her nose and peered up at him. "So I'm Granger, am I?"

His eyebrows knitted together. "I always call you Granger."

"Yes, I'm quite aware," she snapped. "Tell me, does Gwen have a pet name too? Do you just call her Abbot? Does it get under her skin, too?"

"…What's got you like this? This isn't like you."

"I don't belong here," she heard herself whisper, and she gripped her knees tighter. "I want to be here for you, but all I am is in the way. You don't talk to me –you hardly will look at me, and then when Gwen showed up you just…"

He laughed at her. "Are you really jealous right now?"

"And if I am?"

Draco slumped down next to her, pulling her close so that his legs closed her in like a frame. He leaned his head against one of her knees, rubbing his hands down her thighs methodically. "If you were, I'd tell you you're being an idiot." She stared off at the water to her right, so he continued. "I'll admit, it was a surprise to hear she didn't take the money. But that doesn't mean that all of a sudden my feelings just magically apparated back."

"That's because they never left," she muttered. "I saw the way you looked at her. You've never looked at me that way."

He smirked. "That's because I've never wanted to punch a woman before. That look, Hermione, wasn't because I was happy to see her. Far from it." He kissed the side of her knee and drew lazy circles down her legs.

"Did… did she say why she left?"

He nodded, and followed her stare out to the still water. The moon glimmered their reflections back at them. "I suppose the reminder of being associated with a Death Eater family had its drawbacks." She saw his mouth pull down in an attempt to control his facial expressions. "My mother lied to protect my feelings." He laughed, hollow. "You were right. I should have heard her out. And now…" He tore his eyes away from the pond and grabbed Hermione up in a vice hug, pulling her up in his lap. "Now, I'll never get the chance to tell her I'm sorry." He pressed his forehead into her neck and suddenly she felt tears spill down his cheeks and onto her collar bone. "Merlin, I'm such a fuck up. You kept telling me to talk to her, and I just couldn't do it. Fuck's sake… I didn't get the chance to forgive her. She died, thinking I hated her."

Hermione fisted a bit of his hair in her hand while the other rubbed along his spine up and down. "No, Draco. She loved you. She knew you loved her. She didn't fault you."

"How would you know?" he scoffed.

"Because she told me," she whispered. "She asked me to take care of you, and that she knew she had made mistakes. That night at the Ministry. And somehow, she knew we loved each other. She was proud of you, Draco. She really was." He struggled to gain composure as he sat up and brushed his tears away with the back of his fist. Hermione brushed her thumb against the edge of his eyelid and smiled.

He leaned into her hand and calmed himself. Then he said, "Would this be a proper time to tell you Gwen tried to kiss me?"

"No, Draco. It most certainly wouldn't."

"Tomorrow, then." He smirked, tears still staining the sides of his cheeks. He rubbed his face with the back of his arm and coughed. " You won't have to worry about Gwen. I told her that in the morning she was to leave and never speak to my family again. -Why… er… why are you still crying?"

Hermione reached up and touched her cheeks to find she still was, indeed, crying. In the back of her mind, Lucius's words taunted her. She wiped her tears away, but they just kept coming back. She found herself beginning to sob all over again and said, "Oh bollocks." Draco reached out and pulled her to his chest, resting her ear along the beat of his heart.

"Easy now, Granger. Can't have you crying more than me. Funeral procedure says so."

"Your father," Hermione said between sniffles, "Is a terrible man. Just awful."

"I could have told you that." He patted her head thoughtfully. "What did he say to you?"

Hermione couldn't find the courage to say 'mudblood', so she settled on, "Only that I'll never be good enough for you. That the Malfoy name is sullied, and you being with any muggleborn would only foul it up more."

"Said all that, did he?" Draco didn't sound a bit surprised. "Don't let him get to you. He's the one who sullied the family name. If anything, being with you has only helped my reputation."

"Aren't you worried?" Hermione peered up through her hair at him. "That the pure blood community would come after you?"

"Hermione." He rolled his eyes. "Have they come after us yet?"

"No…"

"Has this ever bothered you before tonight?"

"No…"

"Then do shut up. My father's a bitter, old man who lost his wife three days ago. Anything that comes out of his mouth is to be ignored as arrogant fodder. You hear me?"

She nodded into his chest, focusing on his heart beat as it went boom-boom, boom-boom. Loud and soft. Constant, like his love for her. He scooped his arms under her and stood up, carrying her like a child as he took a step towards the pond. "Draco, what are you…?" But she didn't get to finish, because he suddenly tossed her in, dress and all, to the icy water. He laughed as she screamed, and when she found herself soppy wet in the muck, she noticed him jumping in after her. He landed awkwardly on top of her, and she splashed water in his perfect hair to make a point. "You git."

"Woman!" He grabbed at her, but she wriggled out from underneath him and swam out a bit, to the middle of the pond. "Aww, what's the matter, Granger? Can't take a joke?"

"On the contrary," she smirked, "I just don't want to upset the bowtruckles. I hear they like to bathe in ponds."

"Seriously?" His eyes widened as he backed up towards the center of the pond with Hermione. She laughed, and he narrowed his eyes. "Oh, ha ha. Very funny."

"It was, wasn't it?" She swam to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you, Draco. And I am so sorry about your mother."

"Me too." He kissed her gingerly on her forehead, basking in the moonlight. "Me too…"

* * *

The sun was just peeking its rays through the curtains when Hermione found herself being stirred awake by an anxious Draco, who was creaking the bed up and down as he attempted to put on his socks. Her hair stuck up at odd angles, and when he caught sight of her, he chuckled and tossed her shirt at her. "Morning, sleepy head."

"Morning…?" She yawned, "We just went to bed."

"Hardly. But with all we did in the shower, I can see why you'd still be tired." He gave her a wink and pulled his own shirt over his head. Hermione glanced this way and that, then sat up further on the bed. The room was decorated with bits of green and silver. There were little moving figurines of Quidditch players on the nightstand next to them, and the entire back wall was covered in one giant bookshelf filled to the brim. A trunk sat in the corner closest to the door, filled with elegant shoes.

"This is your room…" she said.

"Yeah, it was my room last night as well. But we were busy, so I can see why you didn't take the time to look about." He rolled over onto the bed and shuffled in next to her. "They left it pretty much the same way I used to keep it when I went off to Hogwarts. I didn't much care to redecorate as I got older. Wasn't here most of the time anyways."

"So many books…"

"And to think, when I left I only took my favorites with me. –Get dressed. I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to. Just going to go over Mum's will and then back home."

And so she did as requested, flopping out of bed to find her spare clothes she had brought to the Manor and quickly put them on. She went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth and attempted to fix her hair but gave up. When she emerged a time later, Draco was holding a framed photo of him and Narcissa eating icecream together. He couldn't have been older than five, and the icecream was dripping down his chin as Narcissa giggled hopelessly at her messy child. Draco smiled at the picture, removed it from the frame, and tucked it into his back pocket. They stowed everything else they had brought away in Hermione's night bag and trudged down the East wing to the circular staircase that led into the grand hall. They found Lucius in his study, a box atop his desk and a calculating smirk on his face.

"Draco," he greeted his son. "Sleep well?"

"As good as I could." Draco rubbed his hands together. "So, let's get this over with, shall we?"

"As soon as the lawyer is present –ah, speak of the devil. Greengrass, how are you?"

A short, plump fellow emerged through the door carrying a bit of paperwork and a leather bound briefcase. His hair was combed over and slicked back, and his mustache was primped to the nines. Followed close behind him was a pretty girl who Hermione recognized from back in Hogwarts, but couldn't place a name. She had hair the color of dark maple and carried herself with a dignified grace.

"Lucius, I'm so terribly sorry to hear about Narcissa's passing. Let me say from all of my family, our deepest condolences. –Ah, this strapping young lad must be young Draco. Haven't seen you since you were a knee high. How are you holding up, boy?"

Draco bowed curtly, as was custom between pure blood families, and said, "As best I as I can."

"Quite right, quite right," agreed Greengrass. "Oh, perhaps you remember my youngest daughter, Astoria? Her eldest sister, Daphne, was in your year, I believe."

"Pleased to meet you."

Astoria held out her hand to be kissed, but Draco ignored it and said instead, "This is Hermione Granger. She was in my year as well."

"Oh yes, yes." Greengrass nodded. "Helped take down He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It is ever a pleasure, Miss Granger." He extended a hand, to which Hermione took, but there was a hint of contempt in his voice that she could only chalk up to siding with the wrong side of the war. "I'm afraid this is a- er – family affair, Miss Granger. I will have to ask you to step outside these doors while we go over it all. Astoria can keep you company, can't you, my sweet child?"

Astoria nodded and took Hermione's arm to lead her out. When they had made it to the hall, and the door was shut, she let go immediately and sighed. "I don't know why father insisted on bringing me to this. I told him I wanted to stay home. –Who dragged you along?"

"Draco," Replied Hermione, "He's my… my boyfriend."

Astoria raised an eyebrow but did not scoff the way Hermione had anticipated. Instead, she shrugged and said, "Bout time the pure blood families filtered out a little. We're starting to resemble the Lords and Ladies of old. I'm surprised one of us isn't walking around with a gimp leg or extra arm."

Both women giggled.

"He's a handsome fellow, that Draco," said Astoria. "I'm a bit jealous that you took him off the market. I remember at one point in our lives we were betrothed to each other."

"Wh-What?" Hermione nearly collapsed her lungs from gasping. "I… Draco never said-"

"Probably didn't know about it." Astoria shrugged. "It was when we were little. But both our mothers found out and put a stop to it. Imagine if they hadn't? I might be married to him right now." She saw Hermione's wide eyes and added, "Of course, that was so long ago. I only remembered because I heard Mum bring it up to tease Dad recently."

"So… you're alright with the idea of Draco and me?"

"If you're asking if I'm a pure blood who believes in nothing else, then I'm pleased to tell you I don't fall into that sort of thing. When I raise my child, I won't teach him to be cruel to muggles, as my father did to me."

"That's… surprising." Hermione smiled. "And a breath of fresh air."

"In this stuffy place, you'd need it."

The door cracked open, and Draco emerged carrying a box and a few rolls of parchment. "My Mum really let the old bastard have it, even in death."

"What happened?" asked Hermione.

"Well, it all goes back to dear old father taking a side with the Dark Lord. During the war, he put the Manor in my mother's name, in case something were to happen to him. They never took it out of her name, and well… you're looking at the proud new owner of Malfoy Manor."

"What?"

"Oh, don't worry. All of the money still is in my father's name. But his house, well… Let's just say, I let him have it for a few conditions."

"Such as?" Astoria piped in.

Draco beamed. "I told the ol' git he could keep it, so long as he made a sizeable contribution to S.P.E.W. and gave me a rather generous renter's fee once a month."

Hermione bit her bottom lip, astounded. "And he agreed to it?"

"Of course he did. Could you imagine the gossip on the front page if he were escorted out of his own home?- Needless to say, once a month I'll be receiving quite a significant sum into my vault. So large, in fact, I dare say I'm rich again."

Hermione felt her eyes go wide. "How rich?"

"Rich enough to buy us a private island and a boat to get us there." He set the box down and rummaged through it. When he found what he wanted, he hoisted it up to show both girls. At the bottom of a silver chain hung an emerald pendent in the shape of a tear drop. "Not to mention she left me this little beauty. It was my grandmother's. Been in the family for quite some time." His eyes fell on Hermione and he outstretched the necklace to her. She gasped and took a step back.

"Oh, Draco… I couldn't possibly…"

"I'm not asking." He crossed the hall and Astoria watched on as he slipped the chain around her head and settled it in place. Hermione gasped at the weight of it, and of the sheer beauty. "What do you think? Doesn't she look stunning?"

"Quite." Astoria nodded.

"I… Draco, this is too much."

He shook his head. "No. It's not. Granger, you cared about me when I was poorer than a Weasley at Christmas. Let me give this to you." He kissed her hand. "Let me take care of you, for a change. And before you argue with me, just know I'll keep my job at the Ministry if you keep the necklace."

"Well…" She looked on to Astoria for help, but she shrugged as if to say that sounded like the best deal she was going to get. Hermione nodded, trailing her fingers over the green jewel and felt heat radiate over her body. "Alright. If you promise to keep your job."

"Have to have something to do during the day when you're not around."

The door opened again, and Mr. Greengrass led, followed by Lucius. Greengrass had a bit more weight to his coin purse on the side of his belt, no doubt hush money for Draco's stipulations. Lucius caught sight of Hermione wearing Narcissa's necklace and if looks could kill, Hermione would be joining Draco's mother in the family plot. "Must you insist on tarnishing every bit of the Malfoy name, Draco?"

Draco ignored him and picked up the box from the floor. He smirked at his father, then nudged to Hermione for them to leave. Hermione gave a courteous curtsy to Mr. Greengrass and his daughter, then followed Draco around the corner of the hall and out of earshot. When they left the double doors of the front entrance, he began to slow. She followed suit and asked, "Are you alright?"

His face scrunched in a mix of emotions, each more complex than the last. He set the box down again on the front steps and took a seat next to it, pulling Hermione down to sit with him. "Quite frankly, Hermione, I'm far from it." He slipped his hand in hers and stared over the front courtyard, taking in the scenery of the fountains and live peacocks that scattered around the grass, picking at earth worms. "I keep trying to grieve my mother, but keeping up with my father's antics proves to be taking up most of my time here."

"Then let's go home." She patted the back of his hand. "You own the Manor. You can come visit her on your own time. These last few days have been… taxing on the soul. Let's just go back to my house and I'll run you a hot bath and make you cupcakes and forget that your father is an ignorant toe-rag."

Draco raised his head and said, "What kind of cupcakes?"

"Chocolate."

"With sprinkles?"

"Of course."

"I hate sprinkles."

"No, you don't."

A smile broke out across his delicate features, and in the light of the sun he looked like some magical creature that Hermione had never read about. Some fantastic beast that was captivating beyond all doubt. And he was hers. And she was his. And any prejudices that anyone had towards them could just wait in the back of her mind with her insecurities. In this moment, with bright white teeth reflecting off of the sun beams and his head fallen back in a laugh, he had never looked more glorious.

* * *

That night, they sat in the bathtub at Hermione's house, holding cupcakes above the bubbles and sipping on red wine.

* * *

**Short Extra: An Unexpected Guest**

* * *

Draco Malfoy couldn't be bothered at one o'clock in the morning. He was busy sleeping next to Hermione, thank you very much, and didn't want to be interrupted. In hopes that the knocking on the door was just some figment of his imagination, he rolled over and muttered, "You hear that?"

Hermione was sound asleep, mouth parted and a strand of hair draped over her nose. She looked so peaceful like that, that he couldn't find it in his deep, dark heart to wake her. Instead he brushed the hair back out of her face, kissed her on the forehead, and slipped out of the bed. Quiet as possible, he padded his way out of the bedroom and shut the door behind him just in time to hear another firm knock. He rolled his eyes, grabbed up his wand that had been sitting on the kitchen counter, and approached the front door. When he unlocked it, he found a rain soaked Ron Weasley standing there, still in his work uniform, hair clinging to the sides of his face like a soppy mop. Had it been raining all night? Draco raised a curious eyebrow and said, "Whatever it is your selling, I'm not buying."

"Shut up." Ron wiped a bit of water out of his eyes and rubbed his nose on the back of his sleeve. "Hermione around?"

"She's sleeping." Draco leaned against the doorway, flaunting his half naked body that was only covered up by a pair of blue silk pajama bottoms. Ron wasn't one to miss the connotation. The way Draco stood possessively in the doorway was enough to make him shift uneasily on the front steps and trail his eyes elsewhere.

"I see." He nodded. "Well, I… I suppose I'll just come back tomorrow." He turned to leave, and any other moment in Draco Malfoy's life, he would have gladly let him do it. He would have waived him off with vigorous glee and then celebrated with a glass of scotch. But something in the way Weasley stood, all huddled and defenseless… Hermione would have let him through in a heartbeat. In a frustrated huff, Draco flung the door open and gestured inside.

"Come on, Weasley. You'll let all the hot air out."

Ron looked at the door as if it were booby-trapped, but must have decided it was safe because he stepped inside, wet clothes and all, and began to drip onto the carpet. Draco went over to the laundry hamper, dug out a wrinkled towel, and tossed it at him. Ron gave a meek nod of thanks and began to towel himself dry. "Thanks. –Oh, um… Sorry about your Mum. Harry told me last week. How are you?"

Draco shrugged. "As best as one can be." Both men stood awkwardly, unsure of how to interact with each other. "You want me to get Hermione?"

"Nah. No. I… don't wake her up, if she's sleeping." Ron toweled the back of his head. "I don't know why I even thought to…" He watched as Draco strolled over into the kitchen, waved his wand, and spelled two glasses to fill themselves with a brown liquid. "What are you doing?"

"Pouring you a glass of whiskey. I'd say you look like you need it." He levitated the glass over to Ron and picked up his own. "Well, you're here. Might as well say what's on your mind. Did you come to beg Hermione back into your arms?"

Ron scowled. "I bet you think you're quite the laugh."

"Most days." Draco smirked as he watched Ron stroll up the counter opposite of him and fiddle with the sand hourglass Hermione used as an egg timer. He turned it upside down, watching the sand drip down. "So, Weasley. What's on your mind?"

"Like you care." Ron huffed and glared up at Draco, who only sipped his drink and made no motion to confirm or deny. When Ron settled, he said, "I just didn't know who to talk to about it. Harry's on assignment, and Ginny's on tour with the Harpies, and I… She's still my best friend, you know?"

Draco nodded. Indeed he did. From the very first time he had ever placed his hand atop Granger's knees that night in the office, he knew he would never fully be rid of Weasley. Back then, he had been sure that the tides would turn a different way, and he would have been nothing more than a regretted one night stand. So it was amusing, seeing Weasley stand in Hermione's kitchen, covered in rain and not in a pair of pajama bottoms asleep with her. He really lucked out on this one. It was hard to enjoy it, however, with Weasley looking so forlorn and broken.

"I'm only going to ask this one more time, and if you don't answer you're just shite out of luck for the evening. What's got you eating your jock strap, Weasley?"

Ron sipped his drink, trying to find the words. "Well… I can't believe I'm telling you this. –Ever since Harry purposed to Ginny a week ago, Lavender's done nothing but talk about us getting married." He watched carefully as Draco listened, and when there wasn't a quip or a jab, he continued, more relaxed. "And I don't want to get married right now, you know? Merlin, I've only ever been with Hermione and Lavender and I hardly feel that I'm adequate in experiences. You know what I mean?"

"Absolutely not."

"Of course, you don't," Ron grumbled, "Because the prideful Draco Malfoy would never admit if he came up short in anything."

"I can assure you, Weasley, I've never 'come up short.'" He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Ron made a gagging noise. "But if you feel you haven't lived enough, Merlin's beard! Just tell the woman you don't want to get married and be done with it."

"I can't believe I'm getting love advice from _you_. And terrible love advice, I might add. Have you ever had to tell a woman something like that? I don't think it ever goes well."

"Weasley, I've _been told_ that." Draco made a point to lean forward and lower his voice. "It's painful. It's insulting. But she can recover from it. I did."

Ron's face scrunched up. "Hermione's turned down a marriage proposal from you?"

"What? No. No, no, no." Draco recoiled. "I –I haven't asked her… It's only been a year… No, you dolt. I'm talking about the time I almost got married to someone else. Another muggleborn, much like our dear Granger."

Eyes widening beyond compare, Ron grabbed his glass and swigged the whole thing down. "Holy Hell. I think I'm going to need some more alcohol for this."

Draco smirked and poured them both another glass. "Do you love the stupid witch?"

"Lavender?" Ron nodded. "I think so."

It was Draco's turn to scrunch his face, as if he were smelling very bad cabbage. "No. No that won't do. You either love the woman or you don't. It's not a guessing game. If you have to ask yourself if you love them, you don't. Simple as that."

"And you would know?"

"I'm sleeping in the same bed as a book-loving, toothpaste hoarding Gryffindor who, despite being the size of a small doll, manages to take up most of the bed space. You think I would do that if I weren't in love? Do you think I'd be talking to you now?"

Ron thought it over and then nodded. "I suppose not. –She does like to take up bed space, doesn't she? And the covers."

"A blanket whore, I think we can both agree." They laughed and threw back their second glasses each. Draco gave a long stretch, yawned, and set his glass in the sink. "Sofa is yours for the night, if you want it. It's what she'd offer you if she was awake."

"Erm –Thanks. Right kind of you."

"Just make sure to throw your clothes in the drier before you collect mold."

"That's more like it."

"Just do yourself a favor?" Said Draco as he started towards the bedroom. "If you love the woman, don't let her go. You'll regret it. And if you don't love her, don't waste her time. She'll never forgive you for it."

Ron looked past Draco, towards the bedroom where Hermione was surely sleeping, and a sullen expression fell across his face. "You're right… I think I've just been clinging to the idea that Lavender and I could work because she's the reason Hermione and I didn't…" He shifted his feet and began to unclasp his work robes. "Merlin knows Hell's frozen over the day a Malfoy gives good advice. –Shows how much even a git like you can change." He loosened his tie. "I'll figure it all out tomorrow, I guess…"

Draco nodded in agreement and turned the handle to the bedroom. He stopped himself last moment, though, and turned to take in the spectacle that was Ronald Weasley attempting to wring out a water-logged tie. "Weasley." He looked up. "I'm sure Hermione will be glad to talk to you about all of this in the morning."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure she will." Ron smiled softly and rubbed the back of his head. "Er… thanks, I guess. For listening."

"Oh, don't get sentimental on me. I am going to go into this bedroom, after all, and shag Hermione senseless until she screams my name." His smirk couldn't have been wider as he left a very disgruntled, haunted Ronald Weasley standing in Hermione's living room looking as if he were going to become violently ill.


	7. Shorts

**_Parental Prudence_ **

* * *

**I found the cure to growing older**   
**And you're the only place that feels like home**   
**Just so you know, you'll never know**   
**And some secrets weren't meant to be told**   
**But I found the cure to growing older  
"I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me" by Fall Out Boy**

* * *

Today was not Draco Malfoy's day. As he sat across from Hermione's parents in the E.R. of the muggle hospital, he couldn't help but feel useless as they waited for news from the doctor. Hermione had been in surgery for an hour now. Surly it shouldn't take this long, should it? It was just one appendix. He could feel Mr. Granger's hard stare fixed on Draco's platinum blonde hair. I looked as if he were about to ask if it were really his hair color, and Draco smirked to himself. It was a question that was frequently asked, and he was always so eager to tell them just how real it was.

But instead of asking about his hair, Mr. Granger patted his wife's knee in support and said, "So… You're the Malfoy fellow we've heard so much about."

Draco nodded, awkwardly fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. He was still dressed in his dinner clothes; he had taken Hermione to some Italian restaurant she had wanted to try for some time now, and he tired of hearing about it. Now, as he waited for news that she would be okay, he felt terrible about giving her such a shite time. It wasn't as if she asked for much from him, even when he tried to give her the world.

"Thank you for calling us," Mrs. Granger smiled warmly. "I'm honestly surprised we haven't gotten to know each other before now. Hermione talks very highly of you."

A smile quirked its way across Draco's lips as he said, "It was a bloody pain in the arse trying to figure out that muggle contraption." Mr. Malfoy's eyes squared off, probably perturbed from Draco's language, but he didn't care. He wasn't about to stop being himself. Especially not for a muggle who didn't seem at all pleased by his presence.

"You did the right thing, calling the emergency." Mrs. Granger leaned forward and cupped her hands together. "I'm impressed you've caught on so quickly to our customs."

"Oh, honestly, Jean. It isn't that hard to press buttons on a keypad," Mr. Granger said gruffly.

"But Draco wasn't raised like Hermione, dear."

"Oh, I'm quite aware." He turned his eyes anywhere in the waiting area but on Draco. "I also remember the tear-stained letters she used to send us…"

There was a pull in Draco's middle as if a suction spell were swallowing him up from the inside out. It was the same feeling he had gotten the night he had been forced to go to Potter's stupid birthday party. He was good with confrontation when he was the one instigating it –when the tables were turned, however, he often felt like he would like to dig a hole and bury himself it in it. Which is exactly what he had done, hadn't it? His past never seemed to escape him.

Jean noticed Draco's half-hearted look and said, "I think… to overcome prejudice, especially when you've been surrounded by it your entire life… I think that takes stout."

"Humph. Stout. Is that what you called it when he terrorized our little girl all through school?"

Draco attempted to hold his tongue. He could do it, he really could. Hermione would want him to. But then-

"Obviously, Hermione's ashamed of him. Why else would we not have met him before now?"

It was the wrench in the cogs. He wasn't insecure… he wasn't… or at least, that's what he always told himself. But so much had been done in the years leading up to the War. Too much had been said, too much blood spilled by his family. Every time he ever tried to run from it, it came back to slap him like an ugly hand to the face. And he wasn't in the best condition right now, with the woman he loved in the hands of surgeons –non-magic surgeons that could easily screw up with just the slip of a hand. Maybe that's why he said it. Maybe that's what broke him.

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe she was ashamed of _you_?" His tony was icy, calculating, just the way his father used to do when he'd tear him down. "That maybe she knew _you'd_ be this way, and wanted to avoid all of it?"

Mr. Granger harrumphed and the eyes that looked so much like Hermione's shot daggers at him. "I'm not the one with the backward upbringing."

It was a muted attempt to get to Draco, who had already felt satisfied at the pure anger on Mr. Granger's face. His heart thumped in his throat, however, when he thought about what Hermione's face would have been like if she could see it. He was going to get chewed out for this later, of that he had no doubt.

A cracking pop resounded in the hallway next to the waiting room, and suddenly they could hear the muffled arguing. While Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked quite shocked at the sound, Draco recognized it immediately and rose from his seat, taking to the hallway to see Ron Weasley and his younger sister standing in the middle of the hall. Ginny had her hands on her hips, scolding her older brother.

"I told you this was a bad idea! We should have come through the front door."

"No one saw us," Ron was saying, stowing away his wand quickly, "And we didn't know what floor she was on."

"We might not have seen you, but everyone on this floor _heard_ you," Draco chimed in, crossing his arms.

Ginny turned on her heels and made a quick pace across the hall towards him. "How is she?"

"Still in surgery."

"We came as soon as we could. Harry would be here, but he's on assignment in Germany." She noticed his concerned face and added, "I wouldn't be too worried, Malfoy. Appendix surgery is very common."

He nodded, but that didn't fix his mood. Between worrying about Hermione and Mr. Granger's distasteful attitude, he could hardly find the silver lining in everything. Ron joined their sides, rubbing his arms up and down. "Cold in here," he said.

"It's an infirmary, Weasley, not a day spa," Draco sneered and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. "Hermione's parents are quite a _delightful_ package, aren't they?"

Ginny was quick to catch on to his sarcasm. "They've always been nice to us. –Wait. Is this your first time meeting them?" He looked away from her quickly, attempting to hide his embarrassment. "Oh! Oh. _Oh_." She looked over at Ron, and then back to Draco. "You haven't met them before now. That's… well… how long have you two been dating, again?"

"Too bloody long," Ron grumbled hopelessly. His sister gave him a look, and he added, "Erhm, I mean. What… a year and a half?"

"Year and eight months." Draco crossed his arms. "On Tuesday."

The red headed girl gave a quick grin and said, "Never took you for the anniversary sort. That's adorable."

"Shove it."

"I'm sure she's had a reasonable explanation for you not meeting them sooner." She patted his arm lightly, even as he tried to shrug her off. She didn't relent, just continued to pat. "Ron, why don't we go in and break the ice?"

"Sure." Ron nodded, meeting Draco's eyes. "That will be easy. They love _me_."

Draco went to reach for his wand, but Ginny smacked her brother on the back of his head and satisfied Draco's need for bloodlust. He followed the Weasley siblings into the waiting room, where they found Jean pushing buttons on her muggle phone while Mr. Granger was in the corner, attempting to brew some tea from the community snack area. Draco tried to recall his name. Hermione told him it so many times… was it Walter? Wallace? Something with a W, he was sure…

Jean saw the flash of red hair and her eyes darted up. "Ginny! Oh, so good to see you! And Ronald!"

Mr. Granger turned his head and smiled. "Ron! Great to see you!"

Draco grumbled, feeling very out of place. He watched Ron shake Hermione's father's hand and receive a pat on the back in return. "Hello, Harold."

Harold. No W at all in that name… Shite. Draco scolded himself. He really should keep up with these sort of things…

"How's the family?" Harold beamed from ear to ear as he put an arm around Weasley's shoulders. Draco slumped in the chair opposite of everyone and stared dully at the floor. He tried not to notice how content Harold was. How easily he accepted Ron Weasley as one of his own. Maybe, he thought with a frustrated huff, if Hermione had introduced him sooner to her family, they wouldn't be so distant. But it wasn't as if Draco didn't already know what a distant family was like. He had been sure, after the war, that his Father would be sent to prison for all of his wrong doings. But instead, he paid off every witch or wizard he could, and still kept his distasteful anger at the muggle born community, as if the world had never been ripped apart because of prejudices. Draco had already veered away from his father, even before the war, but to say it out loud would have been to disgrace his father's honor. Now he wished he had stood up sooner. Made a stand. Perhaps, then, he wouldn't be so despised.

"They're doing great. Mum still wants to have you over for her beet soup sometime. Don't do it. It's disgusting."

Ginny flopped in a seat next to Draco and stared vacantly. He wondered what she was thinking of, sitting next to him, when she said, "How's work?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

"Small talk passes the time."

"It's fine."

"Harry said he saw you put in an application for Auror training."

Draco's entire body went ridged. "Did he?"

"We both think it's brilliant," she whispered. "I'm guessing you didn't tell Hermione."

He shook his head. "And I plan to keep it that way."

"Why?" Ginny whined.

"Because."

"Because isn't a reason. –Are you afraid you'll get rejected? I don't know how your O.W.L.S. testing went, but I never took you for a slacker."

"Just leave it, Weasley."

He didn't want to tell her the real reason; that he was frightened of the reason _why_ he would be rejected. Ever since his run in with Gwen, he second guessed everything that was told to him. His work suffered. He didn't sleep right. All he could think about was the fact that he had been turned down not because his blood was so proper, but because his family was so tainted. He pretended everything was alright for Granger. But everything a Malfoy touched nowadays smelled like rotten eggs to most people. Only those in need of funds seemed to care, and that was hardly anything of substance. If his application were rejected for training, he would know exactly why. Because no one wanted their hands mushed around in all the blood the Malfoys had spilled.

A nurse entered the room, snapping him out of his sullen mood. He stood, ready to go. The nurse smiled to everyone and said, "Miss Granger is out of surgery. We were able to remove the appendix with no issues. She's in recovery right now. The family may go in, but everyone else will have to wait outside until we can set her up a room to herself."

Draco's heart raced, and a wave of relief washed over him. She was alright. She was going to be okay. "Bloody Hell…" he muttered, expelling a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Ginny patted his hand, earning a heated glare from him.

"We'll go on ahead, then," Said Jean, smiling at Ron, then Ginny, and finally resting her gaze on Draco. "And we'll come get you as soon as you're allowed in."

Draco sat back down in his chair, sullen.

It set a bad taste in his mouth, watching Granger's parents leave the waiting room while he had to wait like a commoner outside. He was the one in her bed nearly every night. He was the one who listened to her ramble on about spells and books and terrible T.V. shows. He was the one kissing her, shagging her, practically living with her (he still had his apartment, sure, but he only was there when they'd had a fight or she worked late). He should be in there before any of the rest.

"I don't like it," he growled.

"What?" Ron asked, picking up a cup of tea that Mr. Granger had abandoned.

"Sitting here. I don't like it."

"Well, Malfoy. What else do you want?"

"I want to be in there. With her." His voice wasn't desperate. It was agitated. It was appalled.

"You heard them. Family only."

"I _am_ family," he insisted. Ginny gave a tiny squeak and punched him hard in the arm. Draco furrowed his eyebrows and glared at her. "What was that for?"

"You practically said you want to marry her."

Ron spat out his tea across the tiled floor at the same time that Draco's face blanched. "Godric's saggy left testicle, Ginny! Don't you think you made a bit of leap there?"

"You do, don't you?" She smirked.

Draco glared and pulled his knees up to his chin, resembling a five-year-old in his chair. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"That's why you're trying out to be an Auror-"

"I told you to drop that, Weasley-"

"You're doing what? _What_?" Ron's mouth gaped.

"Oh great." Draco jutted his hand out. "Just tell every git we know, why don't you?"

Ron set his cup down on the counter next to him, and his face became somber. "Since when does the awe-inspiring Draco Malfoy want to be an Auror? You do know that requires helping people, right?"

"Oh? Truly? I thought it was about hexing brooding, red apes such as yourself." Draco smirked. "Quite frankly, I think that's doing the community a service."

"Stop it, you two," Ginny scolded. "Ron, you aren't to tell Hermione."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so," she snipped. "And because it's not your secret to tell. Draco will tell her when he's ready."

"Don't call me Draco." Draco gave an impatient huff. "That's reserved for Hermione only. The rest of you lot can call me Malfoy or Handsome Beyond All Doubt. Your choice."

"How about Insufferable Git?" Ron sneered. Draco stuck out his tongue childishly. Ron flipped him the bird.

"You two are hopeless; you know that?" Ginny threw her hands up in the air. "You're practically friends. Why can't you just act like it?"

"Because that's not how this friendship works, Weasleyette," Draco smirked.

"Yeah," Ron nodded, "It's a man thing. You wouldn't understand."

"I'm pretty sure it's just a you two thing…"

The three of them sat in the waiting room after that, Ginny and Ron making small talk, allowing Draco to be alone with his thoughts.

What Ginny had said back there… it wasn't completely un-true. The night they watched Potter propose to the red-head did not stick out in Draco's head only because it was the night his mother died. It was also the first night he had ever considered such a thing as marriage again. When he saw the happiness on their faces, of the joy they both experienced something so profound as love, it did two things to Draco that night. First, it made him sick, because he thought of that ring he had tossed away after Gwen had left him. How terrible, frightened, and disgusted he had felt that she had left without so much as a word. But the second emotion, the one he felt when he set his eyes on Granger that night… That was the feeling he hadn't been able to shake ever since. It was like every bit of his disheveled life suddenly clicked together when he had looked at her. As if those brown eyes could magically glue his heart back together. And maybe they had. All it ever took since that night in the office was a look to make him question everything he had ever known.

When he paired that with the aggravated emotion he felt at being told he could not go to Hermione's side immediately after her surgery… well, it just wasn't something he had anticipated. And it made his nerves edgy. He wanted nothing more than to go in there and bury his face in her neck and tell her obscene, filthy things he would do to her once she got better. But he couldn't. Because, to the rest of the world, he wasn't her family. But to him, after losing his mother, she was practically all the family he had.

That, and the stupid Weasleys that he was forced to adopt via Hermione's undying love for them. And Potter… Fucking Potter. Might as well include him in that lot too. Hermione was a package deal. He'd accepted that long ago.

Harold appeared in the doorway a short while later, letting everyone know it was alright to come to Hermione's new room. They followed him down the hallway, through a pair of double doors, and found her room to be the first door on the right. The lighting was dim, but Draco was relieved to see Hermione, propped up with pillows, stuck with a muggle IV, sleeping peacefully. Her cheeks were very sallow, but she still couldn't have looked more beautiful to him. Harold took the spot to Hermione's right, and Jean was already sitting on a chair to her left, so Draco found the corner of the room furthest from the door and made himself comfortable on one of the extra chairs provided. Ginny stood at the foot of the bed, rubbing Hermione's toes with a smile. Ron stood closest to the door, reading the scribbles on the white board with Hermione's name on it.

"They say she'll stay here tonight, and she'll be sent home tomorrow," Jean smiled.

"That's wonderful," Ginny replied. Draco sat in silence, afraid to move at the wrath of Harold Granger. There was a stir a few moments later, and Hermione's eyelashes batted open groggily. She looked about the room, drugged up on painkillers, smiling at her mother and then her father.

"Mum," she said, "Where's Draco?"

Harold looked a bit taken aback, but Jean simply rubbed her daughter's cheek and said, "He's right here, sweetheart. Draco, won't you come over?"

Pink tinged his cheek as he rose from his chair. He set his head high, jutted his chin out, and pushed his way between Harold and Hermione, scooping up her hand to give it a light kiss. "Hey, Granger."

"Draco…" Her grin was bigger. "Sorry… about dinner…"

"Heh." He chuckled. "I never did care much for Italian food. You saved me the trouble of having to pretend as though I enjoyed it."

She patted his cheek. "I'm okay."

"I know."

"You must have been… worried…" She yawned, the drugs kicking her thoughts back. She struggled to focus her eyes on him, but he didn't care. He was just so very glad she was alright.

"Me? Worried?" He scoffed. "Hardly. They keep telling me you're in capable muggle hands. After so much insistence, I have to start to believe it."

"Love you," she whispered, pulling his hand up to her face. He knew that everyone was watching, knew that he hated the attention, but pushed it down and rubbed her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Love you too, witch."

"Am I the only one seeing stars?"

"Those drugs must be kicking in pretty hard," said Harold.

"Oh, Daddy." Hermione glanced behind Draco. "I didn't know you were here too…"

Draco smirked inwardly. It felt good to know who first priority on her mind was after a traumatic ordeal. And it wasn't Weasley, or Weaselyette, Or Potter, or even her dear old dad. It was him. And that was glorious. He didn't need Daddy's approval to be validated. Hearing her ask for him first, well… he could count that a win today.

"Get some rest, Granger." He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. "We're all here for you."

* * *

_**Bachelor Party** _

* * *

**These days when I was anxious and I couldn't say a single thing to anyone**   
**Because they all seemed much more worthwhile than me**   
**I don't wish them on anyone**   
**But now they are leaving**   
**Though some are still seething inside me, I know they'll soon rest**   
**'Cause if we wait here in the dark any longer**   
**Our mistakes will take all we have left**   
**And I can't handle that  
"Everything's Eventual" by Mixtapes**

* * *

"Malfoy, I need some money."

Draco raised his head up from the table at the Ministry cafeteria and met eyes with Ronald Weasley. He hadn't seen Weasley in quite some time –not here at the Ministry at least. Not after he had quit his job to join his older sibling at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It was easier, Hermione told him, to separate himself that would remind him anything of Lavender. She hadn't taken the breakup well, and the hateful glares were getting to be a bit much. So Weasley had resigned from his job to Draco's amusement and relief. He didn't know how much more screaming arguments he could take to see, even if they were directed at the red-headed toe rag. He tilted his head to the side, smirking. "Weasley. What a terrible surprise. I'm all right, thank you for asking."

"Oh, bollocks the formalities," Ron grumbled, putting his face in his hands as he sat down across from Draco. "I completely forgot that as Harry's best man, I'm supposed to host the bachelor party."

"And… that involves me… how?" Draco yawned, sipping his hot chocolate.

"You have money."

"Yes, I'm aware."

"And Harry's your friend too."

"Hardly."

"Help out with the financials?" Ron asked.

"Why on Earth would I do that?"

Ron pulled out a scroll from his robes and sat it in the middle of the table. "I'm dating the new owner of Honeydukes. You do this for me, you've got a free year's pass. Anything you want from there. Anytime. One year."

Draco stared down at the parchment, mouth slightly agape, and then licked his lips. "Even the little toffees that explode in your mouth?"

"Especially those."

"Weasley, you drive a hard bargain." He snatched up the scroll. "What do you need?"

* * *

_**Babysitting** _

* * *

**Oh won't you be my livewire?**   
**Make me feel like I'm set on fire**   
**Your love will take me higher and higher**   
**Oh won't you be my livewire?  
** _**"Livewire" by Oh Wonder** _

* * *

Draco Malfoy did not sign up for this. He most certainly did not. Was Merlin himself punishing him for all of the terrible things he contributed to the war?

He watched a pea fly over the table, soaring like a bird in flight, before it hit him square in the nose.

"Teddy!" Hermione gasped, setting down her fork and giving Teddy Lupin a very perturbed glare. Teddy laughed, his hair turning a brilliant shade of teal. She looked over at Draco with an apologetic smile, to which he immediately dismissed with a wave of his hand. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself anywhere else. Azkaban, for example. Yes, that sounded wonderful right about now.

Another pea smacked him in the eye.

Draco raised an eyebrow as the offending vegetable fell into his food. Without a word he pulled out his wand, the six-year-old watching him all the while. Hermione was about to say something, but Draco set a calmness as he levitated the six different peas that Teddy had thrown at him already. They floated in the air, swirling in an intricate design before he flicked his wrist and sent the entire arsenal straight into Teddy's face.

"Draco!" Hermione scolded until she saw Teddy laughing hysterically in his chair. Draco cracked a smile and went back to eating as if nothing had ever happened.

Maybe, just maybe, Azkaban would have to wait.

* * *

_**Conflict** _

* * *

**But I believe in something here on earth**   
**Just dance like you're disappointed in the world**   
**Just dance miserable  
 _"Dance Miserable" by Patrick Stump_**

* * *

"You what?" Hermione whispered, resisting the urge to turn tail and run immediately. She stared at Draco, his face like a deflated balloon. His smile faded and replaced with a crossed expression.

"I passed my Auror training," he said again, folding his arms over his chest, "Aren't you happy for me?"

"When… when did you apply for an Auror position?"

"Does it matter?" It was very clear this was not the reaction he had expected. His steel blue eyes searched her brown ones, as if trying to coax out an appropriate response. When they didn't get what they were looking for, he puffed out his chest and added, "Weasleyette thought it was brilliant."

"Ginny? Ginny knew about this?" Hermione covered her mouth with her hands and turned from him. It was so hard not to cry as the fear set into her chest. Tears pushed at the corners of her eyes as Draco stalked around her so that he was in her eye line. It was a mistake because Hermione shot her head up and shouted, "Why would you want to be an _Auror_ , Draco?"

"I think the question you should ask me is why _wouldn't_ I want to be. Think about it. It's not pushing papers around all day like a buffoon. Better pay. Better health insurance policies…"

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Because your life is put on the line every day _! That's_ why the insurance is so great!"

"So? I put my life on the line a lot more during our time at Hogwarts!" His voice rose and his composure wavered. "I could be something, Hermione. Do something besides be a paperweight at the Ministry. I could fix things!"

"Fix _what_?" Hermione found herself shouting too. "What is there to fix if you're in a pine box being shipped to the Malfoy Manor!?"

"We're not having this conversation."

He made to leave, but she grabbed his arm and held him in place. "No. We are. Why would you want this?"

"Potter's an Auror. Did you give him this riveting pep talk too?"

"Harry is different." Hermione chewed her bottom lip. Draco shook his head, not buying it.

"How is Potter any different? Because he was on the light side of the war? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"No!" She gasped, instantly regretting her mistaken connotation. "Absolutely not! That's not what I meant!"

"Then what is it, Granger? Why the bloody Hell can Potter be an Auror but I'm left to shovel paperwork the rest of my life?"

"Because I'm not in love with Harry!" Hermione shoved his chest, tears winning their war with their eyes as they spilled forth. "Because I expect you to live out a very long, happy life being an irritating pain in my ass!" She collapsed into his chest and sobbed. Her voice quieted. "You're supposed to come home at the end of the day, make some snide comment about my hair and then fall asleep next to me. You're not supposed to… to put it all on the line for some… brazen attempt to make up for your past."

"Is that what you think?" His voice was softer. "You think that this is about my past?"

"Isn't it?"

He put a finger under her chin and guided her face up to meet his. "I thought you were supposed to be intelligent." He kissed away a tear on her cheek. "I'm not doing this out of some meaningless attempt to make up for everything I've ever done. This is about my future. Our future."

"How is putting your life at risk every day beneficial to our future?"

"Because I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least try to make something of my life." He watched her face at it studied his, trying to pop a hole in his words but coming up short. "I absolutely cannot come to your house every night anymore and be satisfied that this is the way my life is going to be for the rest of it." His next words were scolding. "Don't make me be less than my potential for your own comforts. I need to make something of myself if I want to be able to look you in the eye anymore…" His eyes peeled away from hers, then, defeated.

Hermione's heart, which had been beating harshly in her chest, began to slow as she processed what he had said. "Oh… Oh, Draco." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed just under his chin. "I love you. Your career means nothing to me."

"But it means something to me." He focused on something on the floor; determination sketched in the lines of his skin. "As a Malfoy, I haven't done much good for this world. But I could. I could fix the name. Granger, I have to do this."

She felt the conviction in his tone. There was no changing his mind, even if she begged or cried or yelled. Thinking back to Ginny and Harry, she couldn't remember a time when Ginny had ever given Harry a hard time about becoming an Auror. And here she was, a puddle of tears on the floor at Draco's expense. She wiped a rather large cluster of tears away from her cheek and jutted out her chin.

"Alright."

He glanced down at her. "Alright?"

"Yes. Alright." She nodded. "Become an Auror. I can't stand in the way of that sort of resolve. But – but you aren't to die, do you hear me?" She ran a hand up his cheek. "You're to come back to me. Every time."

Draco smirked. "Wouldn't dare attempt it. You'd probably string my corpse up on a flagpole and hex it to do a jig in the wind if I died."

"That's… that's gruesome, Draco. But very, _very_ accurate."

* * *

_**Anniversary** _

* * *

**Pusher love**   
**So high I'm on the ceiling baby**   
**Be my drug**   
**So gon' and be my dealer baby**   
**Hook me up**   
**'Cause all I want is you, baby, yeah, yeah.**

**You're my little pusher love girl**  
 **Ain't ya? Ooh, ooh, yeah.**  
 **Just my little pusher** love **girl**

**"Pusher Love Girl" by Justin Timberlake**

* * *

"You're having a laugh."

Draco stared at the mountain upon mountain of untitled artifacts in the Ministry's basement floor. Some were spread out across tables; others simply piled on top of one another. Potter flicked his wand and whispered, "Lumos Maxima." The room illuminated, revealing an even larger room than Draco had previously imagined. He gave out a low grumble.

"Sorting duties. This is hardly the work of an Auror…"

"Don't knock it just yet," said Harry, his eyes worn from working overtime. "Confiscating vaults is part of an Auror's duty. What did you think happened to any dark artifacts we found yesterday, Malfoy?"

"I dunno," Draco rolled his eyes, "I suppose I thought there was a separate department for this sort of thing."

"We're some of the only qualified wizards and witches in the Ministry to handle these kinds of things if something goes wrong. That's what being an Auror is all about. Not just the glory, but the paperwork as well. Once we've assessed if the artifacts we've found are dangerous or not, we can catalog them and ship them off to the appropriate floors."

"All of these came from the Knott vault? This must have been generations of dark artifact collecting…"

"Most likely." Harry loosened the clasp of his robes and pulled them off. There, in just his t-shirt and jeans, he roamed his wand over a chalice the size of a teacup and shook his head. "This one isn't cursed. You'll feel a-"

"A tug, yeah, Potter, I'm very much aware." Draco followed suit, removing his work robes. Potter gave his button up and slacks a once over and raised a curious eyebrow, to which Draco replied, "What?"

"Nothing. It's… well… you're a bit dressed up for work, don't you think?"

"One can never be too dressed up. Besides, I have plans later."

"Plans?"

"Yes, plans. Some of which have to do with shagging your brilliant best friend. Bugger off."

He began to sift through the pile on the floor, levitating one object at a time, careful to not touch them himself. After a while, he conjured up a few boxes to put the non-magical items in, while levitating the cursed objects up over their heads and the spelled objects on the scattered tables. The worst part of the ordeal was separating out the coins one by one. It was all so tedious that an hour in Draco found the need to chat to pass the time, even if it was with Potter.

"Weasley tell you I'm funding your bachelor party?"

Harry stopped what he was doing; wand still pointed in the air. "What? You are?"

"Yup."

"Why on Earth would you do that? No offense, Malfoy, but I doubt I'm your favorite person on Earth."

"Potter," Draco fake gasped, mocking him. "Are you saying our newly discovered friendship means nothing?"

"He bribed you didn't he…"

"A year's supply of Honeydukes."

Harry laughed. "Sounds about right." He levitated a ring and swirled it in front of his glasses. "So, gonna tell me what the plans are for next week then?"

"Not a chance."

Draco had just spelled a rather nasty looking raven's claw above their heads when he spotted something gold glistening from the inside of an overturned jewelry box. He waved his wand over it, and when he established it was safe, he plucked it off of the floor with his hands and turned it over his palm. It was small, circular, and in the middle sat an hourglass with glistening white sand. Harry noticed his fascination and gasped when he saw what was in it. "Is that a Time Turner?"

"A what?" replied Draco.

"A Time Turner. I thought they were all destroyed…" Harry strolled over and leaned in for a closer look. "Hermione would be fascinated by that."

"Why would she?"

"She used to use one back at Hogwarts. For her studies. We used it to… well, we saved a few lives with one of those." He reached to pluck it from Draco's grasp, but Draco pulled back and smirked.

"Think the Ministry would notice one less Time Turner?"

Harry reached over and snatched it up. "Considering it would be the last one… Every single item is to be turned in to the Ministry. You know that."

"Shame," Draco said, eyeing the necklace. He watched Potter scoop up the jewelry box and set the time turner gently inside and then pack it up on the table with the other magical objects.

"I'm starving. Want to grab lunch?"

"What time is it?" Draco waved his wand and popped out a pocket watch from his pockets. "Can't. Taking a half day."

"What?- No.- What for?"

He looked up and smirked. "Reasons. Already cleared it. Have fun sorting all this out, Potter." He waved his hand and gleefully picked up his work robes.

* * *

Hermione buried her face in her hands. "This is just too much paperwork." She sat in her new office, overwhelmed. It was nice, being promoted to head of the Department of Magical Creatures Division, but all of the by-laws were soon swimming in her brain like a mushy soup. Perhaps she was coming down with a cold?

She heard a knock on her door and with a flick of her wand opened it. To her surprise, Draco stood there, fist still in the air to deliver another knock. He perched a surprised eyebrow, brought his hand down, and smirked. "Hello, Granger."

"Draco?" She shuffled a few papers together and sneezed. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be working?"

"Oh, come now." He grinned, taking a careful stride into her office and shutting the door behind him. "Did you think I'd forgotten?"

Hermione smiled, her cheeks tinted pink. "To be honest…"

"I'm hurt." He feigned a pained expression. "Really. That's no way to treat our two years. Perhaps I'll just forget your surprise."

She perked up. "Surprise?"

"No. Not now. Now you've gone and hurt my feelings." His grin was like a wolf in sheep's clothing. He rounded her desk and placed a hand on each shoulder, then leaned over to whisper, "It was a good one, too."

Trying to suppress a smile, she replied, "Well, maybe I'll get off work a little early if you tell me what it is."

Lips touched her neck. "Funny. Your surprise has quite a bit with getting you off myself." He left a string of delicate kisses along the pulse in her vein, and Hermione leaned back into the sensation.

"Draco," she tried, "I'm working…"

"I see that. Such an avid workaholic." His fingers dug into her shoulders, not too tight to hurt her, but just enough pressure to send a heatwave over her entire body. "Let me relieve some tension for you."

She shrugged him off her shoulders and swiveled around in her chair. "I'm. Working."

He scowled, playful. "Alright, Hermione. Have it your way." He winked, gave a smirk, and started towards the door. When he got to it, however, he halted and added, "Oh, you know, I think I'll have a bit of fun before I leave. Call it… an anniversary gift to myself." With a flick of his wand, he locked the door. Hermione quirked up an eyebrow but said nothing. That is until Draco began to undo the top of his shirt.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmm?" he asked, unclasping the fourth button. "I'm unbuttoning a shirt. Honestly, Granger, what does it look like?"

"Like you're removing your clothes in my office."

"Catch on quick." He slowly undid the last button, making sure to dig his eyes straight into hers. Hermione tried not to notice the taught, pale muscles lined in his abdomen or the way his hips made that exquisite V shape down into his trousers. He saw her bite her bottom lip because he smirked. "Like what you see?"

Determined, Hermione jutted out her chin and said calmly, "If this is your attempt to seduce me, I won't be swayed."

"Seduce you? Without your knowledge? I'd have to be daft to attempt it. No, Granger. This is all for me." With his lean form, opened shirt, and slicked back hair, he looked like something out of a Play-Witch magazine. Hermione stifled a sigh and set her eyes down at her work. But it didn't stop Draco from crossing the room, shoving all of the paperwork off of her desk, and sitting blatantly on top of it. His knees caged her face, but he did nothing but smirk down at her.

"Getting a good row out of this?"

"Hardly. Bite your lip again for me, will you? I want that in my mind for what comes next."

"And what would that be—" She cut herself off because Draco reached for his belt buckle and undid the clasp. She gasped and said, "Draco Malfoy! You are not considering-"

"Considering? No. Doing? Yes." He slipped the buckle off and tossed it at her. She reached for his hands to stop him from going further. However, he simply took them and rubbed them over the stiffness pressed against the zipper of his pants. Her eyes widened, and she felt him twitch underneath her touch. Refusing to give in, she pulled her hands away and sat them in her lap.

"I'm working," she said again.

"And I'm distracting," he smirked, pulling down the zipper of his trousers and pulling his full length out into the open. Hermione tried to look elsewhere, but the sight of Draco Malfoy, exposed on her desk, his hand gripping himself and staring so dangerously coy into her eyes… It made a lump form in her throat, and her mouth suddenly became very wet. "Thought you were working?" he teased, running his fingers up the length of his cock, running his thumb along the head. "Don't let me stop you."

She tried to gain composure but watching his long fingers curve around himself, stroking so slowly and gently… it was exhilarating to watch. He stared placidly at her, speeding up and slowing down at his own leisure, sometimes sighing out a breath of pleasure. His cock twitched, and he slowed his motions, eyes never leaving hers.

"You're biting your lip again. Makes me want to shove the whole thing down your throat."

She blinked. "Why don't you?"

"You're working, _remember_?"

Hermione shifted nervously in her seat, weighing the options. On one hand, she was in her office, broad day, on Ministry hours. Anyone could knock on her door at any given time. And this wasn't like after hours, where the odds of getting caught were slim. But on the other hand, she had a blonde, sex-driven man wanking himself on her desk, giving her 'fuck-me' eyes. And that, no matter how career-driven a woman could be, would make anyone forget themselves.

Which is precisely what Hermione did as she jumped out of her chair and began a savage attack on his lips, kissing them with such vitality it made him stumble back on the desk and release himself to wrap his arms around her. He wasted no time in ripping off her clothes, first with her robes, then her dress shirt, and finally managing to wriggle her out of her dress slacks. He pulled her on top of him, then, to sit in his lap. Naked, hungry, and wanting nothing but him, Hermione ran her fingers through his hair and whispered, "Happy anniversary, Draco."

"Shut up and fuck me."

And then he rammed her down on him, hard and fast and completely abandoned of thought. Hermione gasped as her insides sheathed around him, and her head fell back in pleasure. It took everything she had not to moan there and then. "Oh, God…" She braced her knees down on the desk to find balance, and when she did she began to bounce herself up and down on him, hands on his shoulders, teeth on his neck.

"Happy… anniversary indeed…" He gasped when she rolled her hips forward, hitting her sweet spot. Their mouths found each other, waging a war for dominance. Draco conceded, relaxing into the kiss while he set his hands on her hips and began to rock her at a steady pace. Hermione dove her tongue in his mouth, relishing in the taste of mint and apples. Together, they knocked off nearly every item on Hermione's tabletop as they fucked each other senseless on her brand new desk.

Hermione felt herself near her orgasm, and Draco did too, because he scooped her up by her bum and began to thrust upwards just the way she liked until he had her moaning like a school girl in a porno film. She tried to fight back the scream as he rammed particularly hard into her, but it won. Her back arched, her entire body shook as she came, and she bit her lip so hard she swore she could taste blood. But she didn't care, because the euphoric feeling that washed over her like a shimmering heat wave was much more than a bit of copper taste in her mouth. Draco grinned, proud of his accomplishment, and smacked her ass. "Now, it's my turn." He stood up, carrying her by the underside of her thighs, and grabbed his wand, which had been sitting at the edge of the desk. Gently, he set her down on her feet. "Over to the wall now, Granger. Hands above your head. And close your eyes."

"A-Alright," She breathed, still in her post-orgasm. Doing as she was told, she got right up against the wall and spread her arms up to the ceiling.

"Eyes closed, now."

She pressed her eyes closed and waited. She heard him whisper something, but it was lost to her- that is, until she felt cold metal clasp around her wrists. Her mouth parted in a quiet gasp, but she did not speak. Draco's hands glided up the sides of her arms as he pressed his firm body against her backside. She could feel the fabric of his pants brush against her bum, and it excited her, the heat from his body contradicting the bitter cold of the wall. Metal clinked above her; she was very sure she had been shackled.

"My beautiful little Gryffindor, all tied up for me," he muttered into her hair, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear. "Feel free to scream as loud as you want. I silenced the room before I came in."

"You what-?" She started but was cut off by a crisp smack to her bum. His palm rubbed the tender flesh immediately after, building the burn before he gave her arse another slap. "Oh, fuck…" Her legs gave way, but the metal cuffs around her wrists braced her upright. She opened her eyes to see that they were laced through a metal hoop, no doubt placed there by magic.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her up on her tiptoes, angling his hard cock against her slick folds. "Ready?" And he slammed into her, merciless. The sheer force of his thrust made her lose balance on her tiptoes and fall forward, but the chains kept her up as her breasts fell against the rough exterior of the wall. Hermione bit her lip and groaned, unsure if she could take him all in but damn willing to try. At this angle, he was able to force all of him into her, over and over again, sometimes taking his time and others barely giving her time to register before he would slam into her again. Her breasts bounced up and down. Sweat dripped down her back.

When he found the spot that made her cry out, he smirked and held himself there, twitching within her. "Fucking tight…" He reached up, grabbed the chains of her shackles and began to thrust. Hermione, who had been busy trying NOT to scream, soon lost all inhibitions. Her back arched as he attempted to break her in half. The pain made her see stars, but it was worth it for the bit of pleasure mixed with it. "Oh… God, yes… like that, Draco… fuck…"

"Say it again."

She cried out, "Draco!"

One of his hands traveled down her body until it found her hip, and he dug his nails in. "Again."

"Draco… Draco… oh, fuck, Draco…"

One final, painfully blissful thrust later, he came within her. She could feel the warmth of his release fill her up, and she welcomed it. Two years, and she never got enough of being filled with his cum. She never got enough of his sex, or his kiss, or his laugh, or his scent. She didn't reckon she'd ever get enough of him.

"I love you," she whispered.

Chuckling, he replied, "Love you too, Granger." He pulled out of her and moved away from her body, allowing her to slump against the slack of the chains. Her entire body shook as his cum drizzled down her leg. She waited for him to undo the shackles, but instead she saw him begin to dress out of the corner of her eye.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting dressed, of course," He smirked.

"So unchain me first."

He started to button up his shirt. "No, don't think I will."

"What?"

"I think I'll go for some lunch. You hungry?"

"Let me down!" she seethed, shaking against the chains. Embarrassment shrouded over her. "If someone comes in…"

"I've already covered all of that." The last button done, he slid his belt back into place and added, "I might have charmed your door to make other people forget why they wanted to see you in the first place. No one will be coming into that door, sans me, of course. –I'm thinking Thai. What do you say, Hermione?"

"I say you're a despicable git if you think you're going to leave me tied up like this."

"Words hurt, Granger. I think I'll take my time, then." He strolled over to her, smirking, and ran a finger in between her legs. "So wet…" Hermione closed her eyes as he slid two fingers into her. "Filled with my cum. Do you feel pretty like this? I think you look glorious." He curled his fingers and made her moan. "I want you to stay just like this until I get back. Think about what a dirty little girl you've been. And when I get back-" He pulled his fingers out of her and shoved them into her mouth, "-Round two." He gave her a wink, removed his fingers, and smacked her hard on the ass before sauntering away from her to the door. Hermione, still shaking from his sudden repel from her, turned her head over her shoulder and glared. Draco gave her a wave. "Happy anniversary, love. See you in an hour. We'll be doing this all day."


	8. Time

**If I ever leave this world alive**   
**I'll thank for all the things you did in my life**   
**If I ever leave this world alive**   
**I'll come back down and sit beside your**   
**feet tonight**   
**Wherever I am you'll always be**   
**More than just a memory**   
**If I ever leave this world alive  
"If I Ever Leave This World Alive" by Flogging Molly**

* * *

It was a quarter past midnight when the owl touched down on the Quidditch pitch, interrupting Harry Potter's stag party. Draco floated in midair, idling his broom in search of the snitch. Potter was just fifty yards off, fighting the gust of wind that picked up from the East. The game was a good thirty to thirty five, with Harry's team pulling just ahead. Draco refused to give up so easily though, even if he did have incompetent Weasley and airheaded Seamus as his counterparts. Neville kept score from the ground, snacking on alcohol laced chocolate frogs Malfoy had provided.

"Get it in, Harry!" Dean called from the other side of the field. "Don't let that twat get to it first!"

"This twat paid for that broom you're riding on, Thomas!" Draco shouted back. "Watch your tongue or I'll hex it off, you bellend!"

"We all know Malfoy's all talk," Ron chided from his post as Keeper, "He's a tea cozy now that he's under Hermione's thumb!"

"Weasley, why don't you make like a match and snuff out?"

Then he saw it. A bit of gold gleaming right behind Ron's head. He bolted forward on his broom, Potter taking off immediately after. The snitch zigged this way and that, diving headfirst towards the ground before skittering along the grass and disappearing altogether. Harry cursed, and Draco threw his hands up.

That's when he noticed the small white owl perched next to Neville's knee.

"Oy, Longbottom! What's that, then?" Draco called down. Neville turned his head, only then noticing the owl, and reached over to take the letter. He read over the top of the scroll. "It's addressed to you, Malfoy!"

Draco touched down gracefully, setting his broom on the cool grass. He grabbed the letter out of Neville's hand, recognizing the scroll immediately. This was a Minister seal. Well, that couldn't be good. One by one the men touched down as Draco peeled off the wax and read the letter quietly to himself. As he reached the end, all of the color drained from his face.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked. "Everything alright?"

Draco couldn't speak. He couldn't think, nor could he even dare move. All he could do was scan his eyes over each and every word, as if one of them would hold the key to the sheer horror they described. He felt Potter pry the parchment out of his fingers.

"Auror Draco Malfoy," Harry read aloud to the others, "It is with deepest condolences I write to you this evening. Tonight, at nine thirty this evening, the body of ... of Hermione… Jean Granger was found on the North side of Hogsmeade…" His voice trailed off as he scanned the paper. Ron, who had been hovering just a ways off, suddenly dropped to the grass in a blur. "Is… this isn't saying what I think it's saying, is it? It couldn't possibly mean…"

Neville pulled the paper out of Harry's hands and began to pick up where Harry left off, horror written across his face. "The Ministry is doing everything we can to find the culprit to these fiendish acts. As you know, procedure calls for those closest to the…" He choked back a gasp. "The deceased to give statements regarding whereabouts for their evening when foul play is suspected."

Everyone listened as Neville read on. Everyone, that is, but Draco, who only heard the muffle of a voice somewhere far off in the distance. It didn't feel real. None of it. His entire body was numb.

He felt someone touch his shoulder, and he could hear a ways off Potter saying, "-Maybe there's been some sort of mistake-"

Draco connected sight with a pair of blue eyes that matched his own stupefied expression. Ron Weasley looked as if he had been stabbed in the gut. Draco reckoned he didn't appear any better. It was almost a relief when Weasley approached him not with consoling eyes, but with the matching anger that burned in Draco's.

"I reckon there's a few things we need to straighten out," said Ron quietly. And that's when he realized that only Ron Weasley could feel the intricate feelings associated with losing someone they loved in the most intimate of ways. He had always suspected Weasley had never quite gotten over his attraction for Granger, but in this one gruesome moment, he was relieved he was not alone.

Draco nodded. "Agreed."

In unison they left the pitch, their disapparation crackling like lighting in the still of the night.

* * *

_"Bachelorette in the Burrow! Everyone watch out!" Molly Weasley squealed excitedly, waving a cake battered spoon above her head. Little bits of cake mix flew around the room and in her hair, but she didn't care. She greeted Ginny, Hermione, and Luna as they arrived via floo into the Weasley fireplace. Ginny rolled her eyes, but Hermione gave her a reassuring smile and patted her on the arm. "Your mother is so adorable, you know."_

_"Yeah. Adorable. And scary. Remember when she murdered Lestrange?"_

_Molly's eyes narrowed, and she put her hands on her hips. "I told you never to talk about it."_

_"I'm simply stating you're not a witch to be trifled with. That said, do we have to have my bachelorette party here, Mum? This is hardly a way to throw a party." Ginny poked Hermione in the arm. "As my Maid of Honor, you were supposed to secure fun. Not frump."_

_"Ginny Weasley," Molly scolded, "I'll have you know I wasn't always this dedicated mother and wife. I was one wild witch before you came along."_

_"Oh, I'm sure, Mum."_

_Hermione pushed Ginny into the kitchen and sat her down in one of the dinner chairs. "This is only the first stop. I promised your Mum she could host the pre-party." She lowered her voice and whispered, "I've rented out a room at Madam Bande after this."_

_"Is that the all-male strip ensemble?"_

_"Yes," Said Luna, chiming in. "And it's quite enjoyable. Have you ever been?"_

_Hermione's eyes widened. "No. Are you saying you've been?"_

_"A few times."_

_Ginny threw her head back laughing. "You're full of surprises Luna."_

_"What are you girl's going on about?" Molly popped in, covered in baking batter. "Ginny, dear, have toffee. I've made plenty." And with that, she presented an array of penis shaped toffees to the table._

_Ginny, mortified, stood from her seat and made to escape through the floo, but Hermione grabbed her arm and pulled her back down in her chair. "No you don't. You're a powerful witch. You can get through this."_

_"I really don't think I can," Ginny squeaked, mortified as her mother picked up a rather burnt looking penis toffee and popped it into her mouth._

* * *

_Draco's lips turned into a confident smile as Ron removed Harry's blindfold. It took him a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did Harry gave out a 'woah' and spun around. "Holy Hell. Is this-"_

_"The Bulgarian Quidditch stadium? Yup." Ron gave a quirky grin and waved his arms around the vast playing field surrounded by momentous seating. He gave Draco a hearty pat on the shoulder. "Only the best for our Stag."_

_"I…" Harry looked from Ron, to Draco, to Neville, Seamus, Dean, and George Weasley, and then whistled. "I don't know what to say."_

_"Say bloody 'thank you' and be done with it," said Draco, and with a snap of his fingers 7 broomsticks flew across the stadium from all sides and landed in front of each fellow. Harry's hand roamed across the body of the broom with enthusiastic eyes._

_"Are these the new Nimbus 2K3's?"_

_"They're not even supposed to be on the market yet," Muttered Dean as he gripped the hilt in his hand._

_"When you're a Malfoy," smirked Draco, "You get certain privileges."_

_George mounted his broom and kicked off, took a spin around the stadium, and landed gracefully back down. "Harry, you should have befriended Malfoy ages ago. Could you imagine what our Quidditch team would have been like with these resources?"_

_Draco's ego inflated, until Harry replied, "Well, the Slytherin's had plenty of Malfoy money, and we still managed to beat them." He wiggled a superior eyebrow towards Malfoy, who scoffed in response._

_"You know I've beaten you before."_

_"Sure, when there were dementors involved," said Ron cheerily and mounted his broom. "Don't think that really_ counts _though."_

_"Does so!"_

_"No, Draco," Laughed Harry as he followed Ron's lead, "It really doesn't."_

_All the men laughed except for Draco, who quickly mounted his broom and kicked off towards the pitch to retrieve the spelled box of headgear and balls._

* * *

The Auror associated with taking Draco's preliminary statement was cordial, though the questions he asked were painful.

"How well did you know Miss Granger?"

"She was my… my girlfriend, I suppose." But it had felt like more than that, hadn't it?

"Where were you tonight between the hours of eight and ten P.M.?"

"I was with Harry Potter and the rest of his stag party," He heard himself say, but it didn't feel real. If this Auror had known them back in Hogwarts, he would have known exactly why Draco felt that way. But as it were, this Auror was at least ten years their senior and did not know the horrible things Draco Malfoy had done to Potter and his group, aside from what everyone knew about the Malfoys in the paper.

"Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt Miss Granger?"

He flinched. "They murdered her. That's a bit more than hurt, wouldn't you say? – _I want to see her_."

"Answer the question, Auror Malfoy."

"Will I get to see her?"

"Answer the question."

Draco felt a sting in his eyes but refused to cry. No, he would not cry like some pansy in front of this bloke who knew nothing about his life. He would hold it in until he could find some hole in the wall to die in. Instead, he thought hard about the question. Instantly, his father came to mind, but even Draco knew that this was beyond Lucius's grasp. The way they had described the scene was something bloody and animalistic. His father was cold, maniacal, but if there was one thing he was not, it was messy. Besides, he wouldn't dare risk the loss of his mansion over a stupid feud between pureblood and muggle born.

He placed his fingers on his temple and rubbed. Gwen didn't like Hermione, but he knew she wasn't capable of murder in any form. Gwen had been a healer for St. Mungo's when they met. Her passion for saving lives far outweighed any grudge of the heart. When he had asked her to leave, that night of his mother's funeral, he remembered the pain in her eyes. But that wasn't a sign of murderous intent.

"No." He shook his head. "I can't think of anyone." He watched the Auror scribble on a parchment with his plumed quill and got the courage to ask, "How d-did it happen?" He had only gotten the vaguest of details. He wanted –no, he needed to know how it happened.

"Once we're done here, the lead Auror in the case will fill you in on details." The man didn't seem at all interested in being helpful. Draco had the urge to climb right over the table and hex the Auror with about a thousand different spells until his face peeled off and his insides turned to jelly. Instead, he fidgeted with the family crest on his Malfoy ring and fought hot tears in the corners of his eyes. He bowed his head in defeat and answered the rest of the questions with quiet deliberation. When it was over, the Auror rose from his chair and left the room.

Draco sat in silence for quite a while, listening to the hum of the air conditioner and his own heartbeat drumming in his ears. That was until a knock shook him from his thoughts and a flash of raven hair peeked in through the doorway. Never in his life had Draco Malfoy been so relieved to see Harry Potter.

"Hey," Harry said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him, "You good?"

He knew he wasn't asking about his state of emotions. He was asking about the interrogation. Draco nodded firmly. "It was quick."

Harry took a seat across from him. In his hands was a manila envelope stuffed with papers. "I managed to nick this off Auror Sterling's desk. We won't have much time with it. –Are you sure you're prepared?"

It had been discussed before the interrogation that Harry would gather any Intel he could and report it back to Draco immediately. There was no way that the two of them would let anyone else handle this case. This was Hermione. This was _their_ Hermione. "Show me."

Harry slid the file across the desk and turned it open. What Draco saw made bile spill up his throat, but he swallowed it back down. Cold, blank chocolate eyes stared up at a camera lens. Her clothes were tattered, and there were cuts along her arms, legs, and chest. Four long gashes painted red across her neck.

"This definitely wasn't a spell," Draco muttered.

"Werewolf," Harry whispered.

"What?"

"Werewolf. I've seen those marks before."

Draco stared hard at the picture, trying to piece any idea in his head together that would lead Hermione to be attacked by some werewolf.

"We'll find whoever did this, Malfoy."

He nodded in response, unable to find the words. Instead, he began to flip page after page on the already building case, using his photographic memory to take down every detail.

* * *

_Molly Weasley dug her heels into the Bachelorette night by pulling out an old box with runes carved into the side, sat it neatly upon the table, and smiling. "How's the Baby Making brew coming along, Hermione dear?"_

_Hermione was busy throwing in a few herbs into her pink filled cauldron when she answered. "Lovely, Missus Weasley."_

_Ginny stared at her Cauldron, in which the contents were a murky green. "I don't think I did mine right."_

_"You best get a move on," Luna said whimsically as she threw in some roots to her cauldron, "Or Hermione will surely beat you out for the charmed vibrator prize."_

_"Bloody Hell," muttered Ginny, throwing her head into her hands and quite resembling her older brother Ron in the process, "Bloody fucking Hell…"_

_"Language, Ginny," Singsong'd Molly, "And Hermione, that is quite a beautiful potion indeed."_

_"Thank you." Hermione beamed from ear to ear. That was, until Molly added,_

_"You know, I had thought you'd be the one to give me a granddaughter."_

_Ginny, completely abandoning her cauldron, flared bright red and waved her hands around. "Mum! That's hardly appropriate."_

_"We're all women here, Ginerva. And Hermione knows I only mean that as a compliment." Molly tossed a few roots into her own potion, hard at work. She did cast a glance up to Hermione and reproached. "I think its lovely you were able to turn that Malfoy boy around, though, sweetheart. He's quite different than his father, of that I can tell."_

_"He is," Hermione nodded mildly, waving her wand over the cauldron counterclockwise. She watched the potion begin to glow with little stars in the center, and Molly perked up._

_"It's ready! Oh my, Ginny, I do believe Hermione has beaten you out."_

_"Oh bollox," Ginny smirked, nudging Hermione in the arm._

_"Alright, for part two!"_

_"There's a part two?"_

_"Of course, there is, dear." Molly conjured up three glasses and set them in front of each witch. "This is an old family practice. Supposed to bring a bit of good luck. You three will each take a swig from the winner's brew, and then I hold my wand over each of your heads."_

_"And what exactly… does it do?" Ginny grimaced._

_"It predicts how many children you'll have!"_

_Ginny's eyes widened, and Hermione paled. Only Luna smiled warmly at the idea, swaying her head from side to side and saying, "Well that's quite lovely."_

_Hermione was the first to rebuttal. "I've never read up such a potion, Molly."_

_"That's because it's a secret one passed down for generations in our family." Molly poured each one of the girls a chalice. "Oh, come now girls," she added, seeing the refrain in their eyes, "It's a tradition. Predicted every one of you. Arthur didn't believe me, either, but every one of you popped out in the end." She grinned from ear to ear and nudged to Ginny. "I promise, I'll let you go do your night of drinking and wild men as soon as you do this for me."_

_That was all Ginny needed as incitement. She grabbed up her cup and swigged down the entire contents without hesitation. Smiling, Molly nudged for Hermione and Luna to do the same. And they did, devouring every drop. "Tastes a bit like Snorlack milk," Luna hummed._

_Hermione rolled her eyes but didn't argue. There was no telling Luna there were no Snorlacks._

_"Right, there you are. Alright, Ginny, you're the bride, so you first." Molly stood behind Ginny and waved her wand in a figure eight. Two green sparks and one gold shot out, raining down on Ginny's head. "Oh my!" Molly clapped her hands wildly. "Three children, dear! That's wonderful! Two boys and a girl. You should feel very proud." Ginny rolled her eyes as Molly moved over to the next seat. "Luna dear." Again Molly waved her wand, and two green sparks emerged at the same time. "Dear me. Twins? Oh, Merlin's hat!"_

_"My great grandmum was a twin." Luna grinned. "How exciting!"_

_Molly moved anxiously over to Hermione, who was skeptical but still half-excited. That was until Molly waved her wand over Hermione's head to produce… nothing. No sparks came from Molly's wand, and it sent a sinking feeling down into the pit of Hermione's stomach. Molly frowned, waved again, but still nothing came of it._

_"Maybe the potion wore off?" Ginny suggested._

_Hermione looked up at Molly, who stared down at Hermione with concerned concentration._

_"Mum?"_

_"Oh. Yes dear." Molly broke her gaze and looked to her daughter. "That's quite a possibility. I wouldn't look into it too much, Hermione dear. It's just a family potion, after all. Nothing they teach at Hogwarts, for sure." She stowed away her wand and patted Hermione on the shoulder. "Right, well, I should let you girls go for the rest of your festivities. I'm so proud of you, Ginny."_

_As everyone began to gather their things, Hermione excused herself to the bathroom. There, she sat on the edge of the tub and felt a hot tear slide down her eye. It wasn't as if she believed in a non-proven potion that hadn't even been Ministry approved… but for a brief moment, she had hoped to glance into her future, even if it was obscure and ridiculous. She didn't understand why the need to know that there might be a child in her future clung to her like fly on sticky paper. Just the thought of holding a child… Her stomach plummeted. No. She wouldn't let herself feel this. Tonight was about Ginny, and she refused to let something so minuscule get to her._

_She gathered up her courage,_ _wiped her tears away, and left the bathroom without another thought of it._

* * *

Ron Weasley was found pacing the hallway just outside of the interrogation rooms when Harry and Draco emerged. When he caught sight of the two, he stopped his movement and squeezed his hands into fists. "I told the others to go home. We'd tell them what was going on when we knew more."

"Good. Thanks, Ron," said Harry, and put a hand on Ron's shoulder. The two men looked as if they had been beaten by a bludger, but they seemed right as rain in comparison to Draco, who appeared to only be keeping it together by a thin thread of sheer will.

"So…" Ron pulled the paperwork from Harry and began to look over its contents, "It's b-been a while since I've been an Auror, but…" He flinched as he scanned over Hermione's picture. "Hermione was never one to let her guard down. This was a surprise to her."

"She might have known her attacker," Harry nodded carefully. "Malfoy, thoughts?"

"Thoughts?" Draco snapped. "My thoughts are that the woman I love is now lifeless in a morgue, Potter."

Someone rounded the corner of the hallway, and Ron quickly stowed the papers under his robes as Ginny Weasley approached the men, tears streaming down her cheeks, a look of guilt written across her fine features. "Oh, Harry!" She ran to him and threw herself in his arms. "I shouldn't have let her go… this is all my fault."

Harry pulled Ginny deep into his chest and kissed the top of her hair. "What are you talking about, Gin?"

Ginny wiped away blurry tears. "I've already told the investigator everything… I'm so sorry…" She looked to Draco. "I really am. This is all my fault."

"How?" asked Draco.

"I –I invited Ron's girlfriend. I didn't know that she used to date you. If I had known, I wouldn't have invited her. Maybe then Hermione wouldn't have gone off on her own…"

Draco frowned. "What are you talking about, Weasley?" He looked from Ginny to Ron. "Who are you dating?"

Ron shrugged. "I told you –the girl from Honeydukes. Gwen."

* * *

_Hermione, Ginny, and Luna arrived at Madam Bande at a quarter till ten, where they met up with Parvati and Padma Patil in a little corner table, where the waiters were dressed in nothing but charmed bowties covering their post private areas. Ginny was much more at home here, and she giggled as a male performer greeted her with a strip tease._

_"Oh, Hermione, you simply must get one of these," she laughed, throwing her hands up._

_Hermione declined, taking to ordering a shot of fire whiskey for everyone at the table and pulling out her camera. "I'm so not letting you live this down, Ginerva. Ever."_

_"Don't you dare call me that!" Ginny gasped, but giggled when the stripper kissed her on the cheek. "And don't you dare take pictures! Harry would be-" Click._

_Hermione smirked and turned the camera around to show Ginny. "Aren't you adorable when you're being blackmailed?"_

_"I simply love the ambiance here," Luna chimed in, "Sometimes, when you aren't looking, the Newlgans like to steal your money, so I'd watch your coin purses, all of you."_

_"Luna," Hermione sighed, "What exactly is a Newlgan?"_

_"It's like a Hobbergolt, but bigger and with pixie wings."_

_Ginny threw her head back, laughing at Luna as the drinks arrived. "You… you have got one amazing sense of humor, Luna."_

_"I'm completely serious…"_

_Hermione was on her third shot of whiskey when Ginny was called up onto the stage for a dance with the entire Madam Bande ensemble. There were just too many flailing appendages for Hermione to be fully interested in, so she made her way quietly out into the brisk air outside and pulled out her cellphone, Harry's number on speed dial. It only took him two rings to answer._

_"Hermione, hey. Everything alright?" His voice was a bit out of breath._

_"Oh. It's great," Hermione smiled into the receiver. "Ginny's having loads of fun."_

_"Not too much, I hope." There was a laugh in his tone._

_"Of course not. –Is Draco around you?"_

_"Yeah, we were just about to play some Quidditch. He's right here."_

_There was a shuffling, and then, "Blast it, Hermione. I hate using this. What is it?"_

_Just hearing his voice, no matter how irritated he sounded, sent a wave of relief down her bones. "Hello to you too, cheery head."_

_"Ha ha." He sneered. "-Oi, Longbottom! Get your grubby mitts off that wine! That's for everyone, not just you!"_

_"Everything alright?"_

_"Yeah, sure," he grumbled. "If you meaning Longbottom eating and drinking everyone out of house and home before the party gets underway."_

_Hermione thought back to the party game at Molly's, and she suddenly had the urge to say something. "Draco, do you believe that we'd make good parents?" It just sort of rolled out of her mouth before she even knew she had said it, and with the words came a rush of embarrassment._

_"…What?" His voice was tightened, caught off guard._

_"I… never mind," she whispered, but he didn't let it go._

_"No, I… you just… bloody Hell. I… I suppose we would, yeah. Why? You're not –you know- are you?"_

_Hermione's eyes widened. "No! Oh, no. I'm not. Not at all." She heard him sigh with relief on the other end of the line. "No, I just… Just was curious what your thought was."_

_"One hell of a time to pick this subject, Granger."_

_"I know… sorry…"_

_She heard him click his tongue. "Apologizing never sounded right coming from you. Stop doing it."_

_"Yessir," she whispered. She was quiet for a time before she spoke again. "I love you, Draco."_

_"Love you too, stupid little Gryffindor." He chuckled. "Enjoying your time gawking at other men?"_

_"I'll have you know, I haven't gawked at one."_

_"That's because I haven't shown up on that stage. –Do me a favor and stay out of trouble, yeah?"_

_"I never go looking for it."_

_"But it always seems to find you." She heard him shuffle, as if moving the phone to the other ear. "When you get home tonight, why don't you give me your own little strip tease-?"_

_She heard Harry yell, "Oi, I'm standing right here! Do you have to?"_

_"Of course, I bloody have to. Get bent, Potter." He brought his attention back to the phone. "Hermione, I have to go."_

_"I know. Thank you for talking with me."_

_"Alright. Love you."_

_"Love you too."_

_She pressed the end call button and stowed away her phone. The wind picked up even faster, and she peaked inside the window to find Luna dancing on the table, drink in hand, and Ginny chowing down on some chips smothered in cheese. She was just about to go inside to join them when a hand reached out and touched her shoulder, startling her._

_"Oh my good gracious!" She jumped, spinning around. She was met with familiar green eyes and chestnut colored hair. Many times she had tried to forget the face of Gwen Abbott, but there would be no getting around it after tonight. Seeing her so close, so beautiful as she stared up at her, made Hermione's insides twist up in knots._

_"Hermione, isn't it?" asked Gwen, tilting her head to the side._

_"Erm… Yes." She nodded, a bit of pink flushing her cheeks. "And you're Gwen Abbott."_

_"Yes." The woman nodded and tucked a bit of her curly hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry to sneak up on you like that. I just remembered you from… that night… and, well, we never really did get to speak, did we?"_

_Hermione wanted to say that she actually liked it that way, but instead she said, "No, we didn't."_

_"I couldn't help but hear you on the phone a moment ago," Gwen stated, absently swaying from foot to foot. "How is Draco doing?"_

_There was a pull in Hermione's middle. The thought of Gwen anywhere near Draco made anger flare up into her chest, and she tried her best nonchalant voice as she spoke. "He's well."_

_"That's good. You two… you're pretty serious, then?"_

_"Yes."_

_She watched Gwen's face tighten, but the smile across her lips still stayed. "Well, glad to hear someone's looking out for him."_

_The door to the club burst open, and a giggling Ginny stumbled out with a cider in her hands. "Hermione, come on! You're missing all the fun!" She looked past her friend. "Oh, hey Gwen!"_

_"Hello, Gin!" Gwen waved excitedly._

Hermione frowned.

_"You two know each other?"_

_"Of course. That's Ron's girlfriend. Honestly, Hermione, have you two not met yet?" Ginny wrapped her arms around the petite woman and kissed her cheek. "So good to see you. Glad you could make it."_

_"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Gwen replied, and the singsong in her voice, Hermione realized, was definitely a show. She felt as if her entire world was collapsing around her, replacing each sturdy brick with a feather foundation that could blow in the wind at any given moment. She watched as the two witches wrapped their arms around each other's waists and started towards the door. Ginny looked over her shoulder._

_"You coming, Hermione?"_

_She made to step forward but then caught herself. "No. I… I don't think I feel well, Gin. I might just head home."_

_Ginny was obviously too drunk to comprehend Hermione's words, so Gwen replied, "Well, if you don't feel well, you should definitely call it a night." She gave a wink. "Don't worry, I've got this ginger snap. You go rest, Hermione." And with that, Gwen took Ginny back inside, leaving Hermione standing on the cold cobble stones looking more than a bit morose._

* * *

Draco's heart sunk in his chest. It was a bit much to take in, wasn't it? He grabbed Ron up by the scuff of the collar and glared at him. "Gwen Abbott? You're dating Gwen Abbott?"

Ron looked as if he might have a heart attack. "Y-Yeah? S-So?"

"So Gwen is the woman who broke Malfoy's heart, wasn't she?" Ginny whispered.

"Do you think she did this?" asked Harry.

Ginny shook her head. "She was with me the rest of the evening. She couldn't have."

"Gwen's not a lycanthrope, anyway." Draco felt a tightening in his chest –it spread panic through his core to his appendages, and soon he became so stirred that he had to sit down at one of the benches lined against the walls. Ginny came to take a seat next to him, and she looked so guilt ridden he had to add, "S'not your fault anyways, Weasley. You didn't know leaving her on her own would… would…" He tried hard to fight it, but he brought his hands up and covered his face to hide the tears that pushed their way through and down his cheeks. He thought of his last conversation with Hermione –the one about children. He hadn't given it much thought before, but now that she was gone it was all he could imagine. Tiny faces flooded his mind with her curly hair and his steel blue eyes. Tiny bodies that climbed into bed for a story. Tiny hands reaching up to hold their parents' hands. Tiny children that would never be a possibility anymore.

He took it for granted that Hermione would always be there –that they would have time for these kind of conversations later. Now he no longer had that. He no longer had anyone, really. Without her, there was no way the others would stay around. Without her, his family was gone. He wished desperately for more time with her. Just to hold her once more. Just more time…

Time. It was such a sudden thought that it stopped his panic almost immediately. His head shot up, and he didn't care that they could see the remnants of his breakdown spatters across his cheeks. He stared up at Potter and said, "We just need time."

* * *

_Hermione wasn't sure where she would go. She knew she had told Ginny she would head home, but she most definitely didn't want to, where she would only sit around and wait for Draco to come in at the crack of dawn. And she definitely didn't want to surround herself with Gwen Abbott, who always stemmed as a reminder that Draco's past never really wanted to stay in the past. It sickened her to know that Ron was dating her now._

_She decided that maybe getting a round in Hogsmeade would be better for her. So she apparated on the spot and popped in at the edge of town, where she made her way to the Three Broomsticks. She found a quiet spot tucked in the back corner and preoccupied herself with pulling out a shrunken version of a lengthy book, spelling it up to full size, and finding her page marker. A waitress came around and took a drink order for her. Hermione ordered a butterbeer, already a bit toasted from her shots at Ginny's bachelorette party. She wondered how the others were fairing without her, but she tried to tuck those emotions away immediately._

_She wasn't being a very good friend at all, really. She knew that leaving in the middle of a party was rude, but finding out that the woman who broke Draco's heart was now surely going to break her best friend's… it was all too much at once. She just didn't have the stomach for it tonight. Not after Molly's stupid potion…_

_It was a surprise to her when she looked up and saw Lavender Brown stepping in to the pub, wrapped in a traveler's robe and looking more disheveled than normal. Lavender looked aged since the last time Hermione saw her; there were tufts of grey in her hair, and bags under her eyes. Had she been sleeping, she wondered? She thought about going back to her drink alone, but something in her made her pity Lavender tonight. She stood and waved at the woman, who caught her eyes and looked around as if to find who Hermione could possibly be calling over, because it couldn't be her. Hermione shouted Lavender's name, and Lavender's surprised expression lingered as she strolled across the floor and over to Hermione's table._

_"Hello, Lavender," she said in her best cheery voice, pulling out a chair next to her, "I'd say you look like you need a drinking buddy right about now."_

_Lavender bit her lip and bundled her robes tighter around her. "No, it's alright. Thank you, Hermione, but I'm just here to meet someone. I really must be off soon."  
_   
_"Oh." Hermione felt her stomach drop. It had been a tad presumptuous to think Lavender would want to have a drink with her. "I see."_

_Lavender checked the watch on her wrist, looked around the pub, and looked back at Hermione apologetically. "Well, he's not here yet, so I suppose we could have one drink while I wait." She took her seat and began to down the entire contents of Hermione's butterbeer. When she finished she wiped her sleeve with the back of her arm. "Thank you." Her eyes shifted around the room again._

_"Are… are you waiting for a date, Lavender?" Hermione asked, though surely she couldn't be, she thought to herself. Not with the disheveled disposition and hair flying this way and that. Lavender turned her head towards the brunette and said absently, "Oh. No. Just a friend. Supposed to bring me some… potion supplies."_

_"I see." Well, she thought, this had been a mistake. Lavender wasn't much of a conversationalist tonight. Just then, a hooded man walked in and took a seat at the table closest to the door. Lavender perked up immediately._

_"Oh, that's him. I'm sorry, Hermione. I've got to go."_

_"No… no, that's fine." Hermione waved her off and stared meekly down into her butterbeer mug. Well, this was certainly a shite night, that was for sure. She watched Lavender stroll over to the table, smile at the man, and they walked out together hand in hand. "Just a friend my arse."_

_She had been so busy watching Lavender that she didn't notice someone had taken her chair until a cool voice spoke, "Well that wasn't very nice of your friend, leaving you all alone like that."_

* * *

"Malfoy… what you're suggesting… it goes against every Ministry rule," said Harry, pushing his glasses up his nose. "You could lose your Auror position. You could go to Azkaban."

Draco shrugged indifferently. "It's worth it."

"Malfoy's right, Har." It was Ron who spoke. "If we can get her back-"

"And what's to say we wouldn't be the cause of it all?" Harry interjected. "I've meddled in time before, Ron. Just going back could inadvertently put Hermione in the very harm's way we'd be trying to avoid."

"We have to try," said Draco, coming to an abrupt stop. He waved his wand and lifted the charm of the Ministry restricted door where he and Harry kept the inventory of the Knott vault. He stepped inside the darkened room, followed closely by Ron, and finally by an apprehensive Harry, who warded the room back up and cast a quick Lumos spell.

"There's a reason time travel is restricted."

Draco ignored Potter, casting an accio spell and retrieved the wooden jewelry box from the table. He wretched it open and revealed the smooth, glistening time turner that hung by a golden chain. Harry reached out and grasped the metal, catching Draco's attention.

"I want Hermione back just as bad as you do. Believe me. But this isn't right, Malfoy. If this goes wrong, and you don't save her, you'll be throwing your entire career away. The Minister will know. He'll find out, and he'll disbar you."

"What if it were Ginny?" asked Draco quietly, meeting Potter's green eyes with his gray ones. "What then?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Hermione was my best friend, Draco. She's been my best friend since I was eleven years old. You don't think this kills me, having to say the very things she would say? You think I like being the sensible one? Because every fiber of my body is telling me exactly what yours is. But that doesn't make it _right_."

"A time turner has a four hour window, Harry," Ron said, putting his hand on Harry's, which was grasped around the chain. "We're closing in on that window, now. If we don't do this, we'll never have another opportunity."

Harry's hand shook. The struggle in his eyes to be the voice of reason fought with his inner Gryffindor to be brave, to fuck the rules. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Right. Well… You're not going alone."

"What about being sent to Azkaban and all that?" sneered Draco.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I was trying to think of what Hermione might say."

"Yes, well, instead of that let's go save her and ask the witch what she'd say when we're done."

"I'm going too," said Ron.

They all placed a hand on the time turner and readied themselves for what was to come.

* * *

_"You're Hermione Granger," said the man who had taken a seat across from Hermione, his mouth pulling back into a heinous smile. He had a mop of curly red hair and crooked teeth. His hazel eyes danced in the candlelight of the pub, "Aren't you?"_

_"I'm sorry. Have we met?" Hermione frowned, feeling uneasy._

_"Oh, I imagine not. It's just not easy to forget a face as pretty as yours, especially when it's been headlined next to Harry Potter."_

_"Oh." She blushed. Of course, she thought, it wasn't as if the entire wizarding world didn't know who she was. It was a bit hard to be forgotten when you helped save an entire wizard population. "Well, I'd just as well be forgotten about, if it's all the same. I'm just… waiting… on my boyfriend." The lie was quick, but she didn't like the idea of offering that she'd be all alone in the middle of the night._

_"Boyfriend, is it?" The man smirked. "Well, that's a right shame. But I guess someone as gorgeous as you was bound to have one. Still, what's a pretty filly like you doing in a pub all alone like?"_

_"Like I said… waiting." She went to move for her wand under the table, but she felt a poke in her leg and realized that he had a wand already fixed on her._

_The man nodded. "Sure, sure. See, the problem with that, Miss Granger, is that I don't have the time to be waiting on the likes of him."_

_Panic flooded through her veins, but she tried her best to stay calm. "What do you want?"_

_"It's not what I want, is it? No, no, see –this is all a gig. Gotta pull my part of the quota if I want my cut. I'll have your wand now, if it's all the same to you, Miss Granger."_

_"And if I say no?" Her voice was icy._

_"Well, I reckon we could start by taking that sweet little friend of yours and hunting her down." He eyed where Lavender had left, and Hermione's stomach fell. She cursed to herself and handed her wand over under the table. "And your cell phone too, ma'am." Reluctantly, the phone left her possession as well. "Right. Good girl. Now, I want you to set some money down on the table, stand, and gimme a hug so it don't look suspicious. Then, we're gonna walk out of here."_

_Hermione did as she was told, feeling disgusted as she hugged the stranger, and led the way out into the street. She looked for anyone that she could make contact with, anyone at all, but everyone passed her by without a glance. It was then she realized there was a cloaking spell at work. "Who's paying you?" Hermione asked. "I'll gladly double it."_

_"Triple it if you like. It ain't gonna change your fate." With a wand pointed at her back, he pushed her onward, in the direction of the North woods. An early snow had begun to fall, coaxing the leaf ridden trail with a sheen of thin white powder. The moon hung over head, nearly at its highest point and lit the path forward. Hermione noticed two other sets of footprints ahead of her, and that seemed to be where this man wanted her to go. She followed them until she was thick in the woods with a clearing just up ahead. That's when she saw a familiar face; Lavender Brown, unconscious, on the snowy forest floor. Above her, the 'friend' she had left with._

_"Lavender…" Hermione ran to her and checked for breathing. "Why? You have me. Why would you take her?"_

_"All part of the plan." The man smirked. "Oh, I guess I should introduce myself. Fern's the name. Nicholas Fern. You'll be dead soon, anyway, so might as well be cordial." He made a mock bow. "Shame. The moon is almost overhead. I hate seeing pretty girls get pulled to shreds, but…" He flicked his wand, and a blue sheen ran a circle about twenty feet out from Hermione and Lavender, stopping just at the edge of Fern's feet. His hooded friend, who had stepped away, marked the edge of the circle on the other side._

_"You really pissed someone off, Miss Granger." Said Fern._

_Lavender twitched in Hermione's arms and startled awake. When she caught sight of Hermione, her eyes widened. "Hermi…one… what are you doing here?"_

_"We're going to get out of this," she whispered to Lavender. "I promise."_

_"No. You- you have to go." Lavender scooted away, and she gave a sudden scream as she clutched her leg. Hermione reached for it, seeing it was swollen, but Lavender swatted her hands away. "Get out of here! You can't be around me!"_

_"Lavender, what on earth are you-" But she stopped, because the moonlight had parted in the clouds, and Lavender's eyes shifted to a brilliant shade of yellow. Her teeth began to enlarge, and tufts of hair began to sprout here and there. It suddenly hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. How could she not have come to the conclusion sooner? After all of these years, the shift in her demeanor… She thought back to the battle at Hogwarts all those years ago, with Fenrir Greyback sinking his teeth into Lavender Brown. It had been a miracle she had recovered. But Hermione had always assumed that she wasn't afflicted after… but her assumption had been very, very wrong. Lavender screamed as her hands became claws and her back jutted out awkwardly. Hermione jumped on her feet and took off in the direction of the woods, not caring if she would be cursed by Fern – until her body hit the barrier spell like a ton of bricks. She beat the invisible force field over and over again with her fists, but to no avail._

_"Let me out!" she screamed._

_"Don't think so, pretty." Fern gave an awful smirk. "See, I don't get my money less you're a chew toy.-Besides, I get a bit of enjoyment out of this myself. Ain't your boyfriend Draco Malfoy?" He caught the fear in her eyes, and his smirk grew wider. "Thought so. Nah, I don't imagine any amount of money you could offer could compare to this. Like killing two pretty birdies with one stone. See, I've got my orders. But I'm also oh so happy to put some strain on the Malfoy family. Tortured my dad for information in The War, they did._ "

_"Draco isn't his father!"_

_"Don't care."_

_There was a howl from behind her, and Hermione stopped her attempt at the barrier. Slowly, she turned her head around and saw Lavender, in full werewolf form, sniffing the air. "Lavender… please tell me you've taken wolfsbane potion…"_

_The wolf turned its head towards Hermione at the sound of her voice and cocked its head. At first, Hermione thought that she had gotten through to Lavender, but then the last bit of humanity flickered out of the yellow eyes, and the wolf bared its teeth. Hermione searched for anything to defend herself; a rock, or a stick, but the clearing was empty aside from grass and a bit of dirt. It would have to do. The wolf readied to charge at her, and Hermione dove towards the ground, grabbed up a firm bit of dry dirt mixed with snow, and tossed it in the wolf's eyes as it ran for her. The wolf squealed and jumped back, rubbing its paw in its eyes. She ran for the other side of the barrier, and the wolf, sensing_ _her retreat, took off after her, teeth flashing. Hermione hit the wall hard, bounced off of it, and fell on her back. She could see the wolf not ten feet off, and she readied herself for the attack._

But it didn't come.

A flash of blue light and a familiar voice shouted, "Immobulus!"

Lavender's body froze mid-bound, teeth still bared. Hermione rolled over and sat upright –and that's when she saw him, standing above her, that pompous smirk worn heavily over his handsome, pointed face. "Alright there, Granger?"

She had never been so happy to see Draco in her entire life. She reached up and he pulled her upright to her feet. Turning in the direction of Fern, she found him on his back, Ron's wand pointed at the tip of his nose. Across the field Harry punched the hooded man out cold. She turned to Draco, threw herself into his arms, and kissed him hard. When she pulled away, she said, "How did you know where to find me?"

Draco pulled her back and stared at her, drawing his eyes over every part of her face. "You died here.-You were dead. I… I couldn't let it happen, Hermione. I love you, and I couldn't…" There was a flash of gold around his neck, and Hermione instantly recognized the time turner that hung there.

"I… I died?"

Draco nodded, and he let out a sigh he must have been holding the entire time. Hermione touched her hand to her mouth in silence. Then, after a time processing his words, she said, "Bu-But how did you find a time turner? They're all gone."

"Found one in the Knott vault. I was going to give it to you as an anniversary present –Potter told me I couldn't. Sort of glad he told me that, now that I think of it…" His thumb brushed her cheek. "I thought I'd never see you again. But I'll see you real soon, yeah?"

And then he was gone as if he had never been there at all. Hermione gasped, searching around for signs of Harry or Ron, but they had vanished as well. And then, from the thick of the woods, she heard voices. Wands lit up at the tips came out from the woodwork. "Hermione!"

Harry came first, still dressed in his Quidditch gear. "Hermione, there you are!" He ran out and seized her up in a vicious hug. "I got your text, are you alright?"

"My text?" Hermione whispered.

"Hermione?" Another voice called –one with cool authority that she instantly recognized as Draco's. She pulled away from Harry in time to see Draco peel his way out of the woods and into the clearing. He had a stern, superior look about him as his eyes trailed over the spelled werewolf in place before finding her. When he spotted her, he called, "Oi, Potter! Get your hands of my woman!" He strolled over to them and pulled her away from Harry and into his chest. "The next time you want to take on a werewolf, don't. Alright? You gave me a fright."

She frowned up at him. "You don't remember?"

"Remember? Remember what?" His eyebrows furrowed together in a quizzical expression. It was then that Hermione realized this was not future Draco who had saved her. This was Draco from the past. From her own time. The pieces slowly put themselves together in her head. If Draco, Harry, and Ron had saved her, they would have had no reason to go back to the past. Those versions thus fell from the timeline, ceasing to exist. It made her head spin. She grabbed his face in her hands, pulled him down and planted a deep, sultry kiss on his lips, to which he melted into. When she finally broke it to come up for air, he smirked and said, "What was that for?"

She patted his cheek and said, "Tell you later."

* * *

It didn't take long for Fern to crack and give up his boss. Draco stared across the table at Gwen Abbott, who looked nothing more than miffed that she had been caught.

"Why?" Draco whispered. "Why did you do it?"

"Why?" She laughed. "Are you serious, Draco? You really have to ask?" She gave him a once over and turned up her nose. "That night –the night you told me never to speak to you again- that was one of the worst nights of my life. You quite literally broke my heart."

"Yes, well I do believe you broke mine first, sweetheart."

"I loved you," she seethed at him, curls flying around her face. "I loved you, and I realized the moment I saw you that I had made a terrible mistake. And then I saw you with that… that woman. Such a common girl."

"Hermione is anything but common." His eyes were dangerous.

Gwen chose her next words more carefully.

"I thought I could move on." Her voice became quiet. "I really did. I tried dating Ron for a while, and things were going so well… but he just couldn't stop talking about Lavender Brown. How she used to surprise him with toffees at work. How she loved his terrible taste in music. And it all got so much that I… I couldn't understand why I was never good enough." She tucked her head low. "And then I found out that Ron had dated Hermione too. That I could never get rid of that witch, no matter where I went. That she was best friends with Ginny. At every turn I tried to escape you and her. At every turn, there you two were, mucking it up."

"How did you know about Brown's condition?" Draco asked.

"I followed her," she admitted. "I wanted to find something that I could throw in Ron's face to get him over her. And then I saw her purchasing wolfsbane. So I set up a plan. They were only going to ruff up Lavender a little… but then Hermione showed up at the bachelorette party, and…" She began to shake. "I went to the bathroom and did a tracking spell on her. When she showed up in Hogsmeade, I knew I had my opportunity to get rid of the two people I hated most at once. –I paid Fern and his counterpart to front as potions dealers. Hermione showing up… that was icing on the cake."

Draco jerked up out of his chair, wand gripped tight in his hand. Potter, who sat in a corner across the room, shook his head as a warning. It took all of Draco's will not to hex the witch in front of him. "Well… Looks like she bested you, didn't she?" He smirked. "See you at your trial, Abbott. –You know, I suppose I should thank you. –I didn't realize just how much I couldn't live without that witch until I nearly lost her." He gave Gwen an irritated smirk, flicked the door open with a wave of his wand, and exited to the hallway, where he found a disgruntled Ron Weasley leaned across the wall.

"Tell me she didn't do it."

"What is it that Potter always says? I must not tell lies?"

Ron's face dropped. "Bloody hell. I sure know how to pick em, don't I?"

Harry emerged from the room shortly after, tapping his wand on his leg in thought. "We've got all we need to put them away for a while. –Some stag party, huh gents?"

"What about Lavender?"

"Well, She didn't actually attack anyone –I suppose she'll be let out of Ministry custody once she's out of her transformation."

"That's not what I mean." Ron frowned. "She's a… a… werewolf. The entire Ministry will know. She could lose her job. She could lose her entire career."

"Sounds like she could use a friend," Draco put a hand on Ron's shoulder, "And from what I hear, you might actually love the witch."

Two rooms down, a door handle turned and Hermione Granger was released from custody after her statement. When her brown eyes locked with Draco's grey ones, she took off running and nearly toppled him to the floor in a vicious hug. "Draco…"

He looked down at her, all tired and ruffled, and pulled her into his body; a perfect fit, like a jigsaw piece of a puzzle. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I thought we'd lost you."

"You very easily could have."

They held each other for a time until Ron coughed awkwardly and pulled their attention his way. "So… some crazy night. Just so we're clear, I'm not going to be the one to tell Ginny."

"Not it." Draco chimed in.

"What?" Harry frowned.

"I'm going to say I'm not going to do it either." Hermione winked at her friend. "Looks like you're the lucky fit."

Harry looked around at his friends, completely horrified. "Right… well… some friends you are."

* * *

**Epilogue:**

Draco slammed Hermione up against the bathroom wall of Shell Cottage. As the Potter's reception carried on downstairs, he was busy buried inside of her, her frilled skirt bunched up around her hipbones as he pressed into her. She turned her head to the side, eyes fluttering closed. It took everything he had not to come right then and there. The thought that anyone could knock on the door at any moment excited him, and he bit down on her neck to elicit a tempered moan from her. Yes. He loved it when she made noise. He bit again, harder, and felt her fingers dig into his shoulders.

"Draco…" she sighed into his ear just the way he liked it. Her hips rolled instinctively, and the wetness and friction of her made him have to take all of his focus into controlling himself. No, he would make this last. He would take his time with this. This was a special night. He dug his fingers into her hips just as he thrust powerfully up into her.

"Tell me only I make you feel like this," he whispered grittily. "I do, don't I, Hermione?"

"Yes." She bit her lower lip, fighting back the urge to scream. Any other time, Draco would have put every effort into making sure she did, but with the party raging down underfoot, he knew he should maintain a bit of discrepancy. He put his hands underneath the curve of her buttocks and lifted her effortlessly off of the floor. With much more leverage, he drove into her quickly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold on for dear life. He felt her warm lips caress the skin just under his jaw as she fought back a timid moan. Her kiss sparked a fire within him, and he pounded into her, driving her to come with a muffled groan into his shoulder. It was just what he needed to be sent over the edge himself, and he buried himself within her, forgetting every single insecurity or doubt he had ever thought. It was moments like these, balls deep in Hermione Granger, when all of the terrible things he had done seemed worth it, because they had brought him to this moment right here. With her still shaking in his arms, he set her down gently to the floor and kissed her.

"I love you," he whispered.

She raised an eyebrow, giggled, and said, "Well, I love you too. Where did that come from?"

"What? I can't say it?"

"No, you can," she smiled. "It's just rare I ever hear it first."

He thought about it, decided that she wasn't entirely wrong, but shrugged it off. The two began to fix their clothes, but when Hermione had spelled her hair back into place and made to leave, he grabbed her swiftly around the wrist and tugged her back to him. "Wait," he said. "Not yet."

"Draco, I promised Harry a dance with him," she sighed, falling back against his chest, "And someone's bound to notice we've disappeared by now."

"Well, they can manage for a bit longer." He could feel his heart stammering in his ears. "Close your eyes."

"What? Why?"

"Bloody do it."

"Fine," She covered her eyes with one hand as Draco laced the other with his own, "But what are we-"

"-Clear your mind," he whispered, "We're apparating in three, two, one…"

And then the world melted together and then back in place. They stood in the entryway of a large house. There was a circular staircase off to the left, lit with hundreds of tiny candles. Draco positioned himself behind Hermione and tugged her hand off her face for her to look. When she did, she gave a small gasp and glanced around the room.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Well, you know with my payraise after Abbott's capture and all, I felt like a change of scenery was needed. It's my new house," he grinned cheerily. "Do you like it?"

Hermione put a hand to her mouth, then said, "You know I have to look around now."

"Wouldn't have expected any different," he smirked. He followed her to den, where the walls themselves were bookshelves lined to the brim with fresh hardbacks. In fact, each room had at least one wall dedicated to books. In the kitchen, they were cookbooks. In the bathroom, they were waterproof spelled books of fiction to read near the obscenely large bath. In the master bedroom, the bedframe had been made to hold books in the headboard, and he watched Hermione run her fingers idly over the pages of all the muggle books she had ever mentioned. She turned back at him, a tear in her eye. "You remembered."

"And believe it or not, I've read some," he said, plucking out a first edition of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. He placed it in her hands. "For you."

"Oh, Draco, I couldn't," she said as he slipped the delicate bound book in her fingers. "These are your books."

"This one is yours." He opened the cover to reveal a tiny bookmark made to look like the night sky and bewitched to twinkle. On it was a string, and around the string was a delicate, gold ring with a sapphire in the center.

"What… what's this?" she asked, running her fingers over the ring decorated with her birthstone.

Draco smirked. "Well, I couldn't very well ask you to move in with me without properly asking you to be my wife, now could I?"

The look that came from those caramel colored eyes- the adoration, shock, and bewilderment was all so stunning that Draco found himself hanging on bated breath. Her face scrunched up as she tore her eyes away from his to look at the ring once more, and then back up to him, where it softened as a tear streamed down the side of her cheek. "I… I don't know what to say."

He reached over, tossed the book onto the bed, untied the ring from the bookmark, and held between them. "Say yes. That you'll marry me." When she said nothing, only stared at him blankly, he added, "Unless you don't want-"

"Yes." she nodded.

"Yes?"

"Yes. Yes!" She leapt up and scooped her arms around his neck to bring him down into a gentle kiss. Draco clutched his hand closed to avoid dropping the ring as she began to plant kiss after tender kiss along his lips. He melted into them, pulling her close until there was no room between them. As he continued to kiss her, he reached down and slipped the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit.

She pulled away from him after a time, tears falling through her eyelashes.

"You stupid prat!" She pushed at his chest. As she laughed, more tears fell. "You've got me crying now."

"All I did was ask you to be my wife," he grinned wolfishly. "So… this was way more proper than Potter's way of proposing, wouldn't you say?"

Hermione giggled, grabbing his arm and pulling herself into his chest. "Not everything is a competition, Draco."

"You're right, it's not. But…"

"But your way was much more fitting."

"Thought so." He wrapped his arms around her and took in her perfume through his nose. He wanted to remember her like this, forever. The way she smelled, the way she felt in his grip. She was going to be his, and his alone forever. Not Weasley's. Not some random bloke. His. He had almost lost her once. Had lost her, in fact, Hermione had told him later. He wouldn't let it happen again. - They would start a life here, in this place, and all of the guilt that rested on his heart could finally sluff off like newly shed skin. Draco Malfoy was finding himself in the way of the world, and he couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather share it with.

He pulled away from her, spelled two goblets of butterbeer, and handed one to Hermione.

"What do you say, drinking buddy? For old time's sake?"

And it happened that they lived a satisfactory ever after.

* * *

**~fin~**


End file.
